And Then They Were Three by Nell Iris
Summary:9 Willow Street #1.5
Hannes and Mattis have been happily married and heartbound for two years when a tiny, one-eared rabbit shifter kit hops into their lives and seems reluctant to leave ...
This free story is a short glimpse into Hannes and bunny shifter Mattis' happily ever after.
Original Review April 2023:
How in the world it took me over 2 years to discover this free gem existed is beyond me because I absolutely adored the original 9 Willow Street. Well, find it I finally did and so glad too. And Then They Were Three is a short(very short some might even go as far to call it a long coda), sweet, and dare I say sexy entertaining read. I mention "dare I say sexy" because it's not overt but you can feel the chemistry between Hannes and Mattis jump off the page. Perhaps "sensual" is more appropriate but whatever word you choose, their passion for each other is undeniable.
You really do need to read 9 Willow Street first to fully appreciate this short. You won't be lost and certainly won't not enjoy this cute little looksee into Hannes and Mattis' life but your heart-filled connection to the men won't quite be the same in my opinion.
Such a delight that I may just find myself re-visiting this short every Easter.
RATING:
Summary:
Darkvale Dragons #1
An Omega on the Run…
Alec Cipher is having a bad day. The superstitious elders of his village demand a seasonal sacrifice to ward off dragon attacks. And lucky him—he’s the Chosen. Desperate to escape and forge a new life for himself, Alec stows away on a passing carriage late one night. Little does he know, the driver of the carriage is an undercover dragon!
An Outcast Alpha…
Alpha dragon Lucien wanders the wilds after a bloody mutiny stripped him of his mate, his powers, and his homeland. On one of his midnight journeys, he unknowingly picks up a stowaway—a little omega human. And he smells delicious. What starts out as annoyance transforms into something greater the longer they spend time together. With an extremist clan on the rise, can Lucien save both his people and his heart? Can Alec love a beast whose brethren have terrorized his people for centuries?
Can they find a new life together in one another’s arms?
Sometimes love is the greatest adventure...welcome to Darkvale.
The Dragon's Runaway Omega is the first book in the Darkvale Dragons series and is filled with all the things you crave: smoking-hot dragons, magic, mpreg, knotting, and of course, adorable children. The series takes place in a rich epic fantasy world torn by battle. If you're looking for a world filled with lust, danger, and spice, you've come to the right place.
Summary:
Mythmatched #3
Being in tech time-out totally sucks.
Hector Gonzales knew the danger when he hacked the magic grid to marry it with human technology. He’d never imagined this system crash: A total tech suspension while the tradition-bound supe council reviews his case. He’s reduced to running errands for his friends, and seriously? How had people survived before GPS? Then several wrong turns—thank you so much, stupid paper map—lead him to a remote burger joint. And when he spots the cute guy behind the counter? His wolf wakes up and howls You have arrived at your destination.
Getting fired—again—totally sucks.
Rafi Abbas tries to give customers what they want, he really does. However, when he gets distracted by the lovely man with the gorgeous brown skin, he screws up another customer’s order and his boss fires him on the spot. With no money, no job, and soon nowhere to live, Rafi has no business saying yes when the lovely man asks him out. But something about Hector whispers home.
Obeying the Secrecy Pact totally sucks.
To keep the supe community safe, werewolves cannot partner romantically with humans. That rule has been programmed into Hector since he was a pup. But as the day slides from bad to worse to are-you-freaking-kidding-me, Hector sees the moratorium for what it is: ridiculous and outdated. For Rafi, he’s willing to challenge the status quo.
After all, things can’t very well get worse than worst. Right?
The Skinny on Djinni is a M/M paranormal romance set in E.J. Russell’s popular Mythmatched story universe. While it features instinctual attraction, fated mates are not a thing. You’ll recognize some familiar faces from other Mythmatched tales, and although the romance—complete with HEA—stands alone, the story answers a couple of long-standing questions!
Summary:
Paranormal Council Enforcers #1
When you’re the created vampire, and discover your fated mate is a dominant dragon alpha, what could go wrong?
Master Ambrosius was created over a millennium ago and had come to terms with spending his life alone. He has his coven, his second, and a few close friends, but he continues to be haunted by the memory of his fated mate running from him in terror. That is, until the goddess sends him to Montana, and he discovers his body reacting to a sexy alpha with wide shoulders and dark eyes. Surely there’s some mistake though, right?
Emmerich was born on Treasure Ridge, the mountain his grandparents claimed several centuries ago for a reason that wasn’t yet known. Like his brother, he longs for his mate and children but knows they aren’t on their mountain. Emmerich’s dragon insisted he would find his mate in Sicily, but after weeks of searching, he comes back to Treasure Ridge, where his dragon scents the most amazing thing. Mate. When he discovers the scent is coming from the created vampire, he’s not sure about the pairing but is more than willing to accept the match.
Together, they discover a desire for unexpected things. But while they are happy switching roles at certain times, the council is still forming, and they discover an evilness none expected. Will they be able to stop the threat before their family is harmed?
Ambrosius is Book One in the Paranormal Council Enforcers series. Each book in this series will focus on a different couple, but these books are not standalones and should be read in order as there is an ongoing backstory that won’t be resolved quickly. This is a fated mate MPreg story in an MPreg world, and you should expect all the normal vampire shenanigans, and remember that love bites in unexpected places. Especially when your beloved is a sexy dragon.
Demon Gods #1
The trickster god is free and he's under my command.
When I asked the old witch under Camden Lock for help with avenging my family's murder I didn't expect her solution would be to invoke a powerful god.
Loki is big, strong and pissed!
Thankfully he's bound to me so he can't hurt me.
But the only way he'll ever help me get my revenge is if I help him find someone really important first.
The problem is the more time I spend with him, the less I'm able to resist him.
But I can't let my guard down.
He might say all he wants from me is to punch my V-card and end the people that killed my family, but I know he wants something more.
And I'm scared it has the potential to destroy everything.
How can a young, meek little witch like me tame a god like him?
Loki and his Master is the first book in the Demon Gods series, a spin-off series set in the Cursed Hearts universe.
Demon Gods is a contemporary fantasy MM romance/urban fantasy MM romance series where mythical gods are re-incarnated into the 21st century and let loose to destroy, avenge and fall in love with young little witches. Written in British English with US spelling and grammar.
Tags:
mythical gods modernized, witches, demons, master/servant, Ds, age gap, punching his v-card, hurt/comfort, forced co-operation, beauty and the beast vibes, alpha protector, tragic past, big/small pairing, lover in peril, trouble magnet, I don't know if I can trust you, urban fantasy world, morally gray main characters, Slavic folklore, Norse mythology
Random Paranormal Tales of 2023
And Then They Were Three by Nell Iris
A twitch of the little rabbit's body catches my attention.
At first, Vidar ran and hid underneath a bush whenever either of us spoke to him, as though he expected to be chastised, or maybe worse. But gradually he's gotten used to us, and maybe learned to trust us a little, so these days we can talk to him without scaring him.
But I still gentle my voice and try to make myself smaller when I turn to him. "Hey there, kiddo. You know he's not actually mad at you, right?" I point my thumb at Mattis, give Vidar a warm smile, and waggle my eyebrows. When Vidar's nose twitches and his ear rises from his body the tiniest bit, my heart leaps in my chest. "He may be big and sound strict, but he's just a big ole softie who wants to show you the tastiest carrots."
Mattis pinches my butt hard, but out of the corner of my eye, I can see his encouraging smile.
Vidar's body relaxes a little.
"I would tell him to turn into a rabbit and show you where to find the best carrots, but he'd probably eat them all, and we don't want that, do we?"
The kit's chin raises a little until it's no longer plastered to the ground.
"But do you want to know a secret?" I loud-whisper.
The little nose stops, as though Vidar holds his breath, waiting for what I'm about to say.
"We grow enough carrots for both of you."
Vidar's ear springs up to full attention.
"Look over there." I lean forward and point to a random carrot. "That one's the best. I promise. Go on. Dig it up."
We both tense with anticipation as Vidar hops once and then pauses, eyes on me, waiting to see if I'm going to change my mind. When I don't, he sets off toward the vegetable I pointed out, hopping faster than I've ever seen him do before, and starts digging with abandon. Now and then he stops and looks in my direction, but when I nod and smile, he continues.
Mattis sighs. "And you call me a softie. You hardly let me touch your beloved carrots, and I'm your husband."
"What can I say, honey? I have a thing for cute, one-eared kits."
The Dragon's Runaway Omega by Connor Crowe
1
Alec
They had chosen me to die.
I stood stock still, reading the name on the parchment for the thousandth time. My shaking hands nearly dropped the paper.
Alec Cipher.
Me.
I couldn’t think for the blood rushing in my ears. I couldn’t breathe for the mass of people crowding around me.
I had been Chosen.
My family aren’t exactly what you could call progressive. I grew up and lived in the small village of Steamshire. The people, while kind, had a mountain of superstitions.
Don’t bathe after dark.
Never stand directly behind someone.
And absolutely do not stare at a fire. Ever.
They said looking directly at a fire was basically inviting a dragon into your home.
And that’s how this whole mess got started.
A tribe of dragons lived not far to the east. Despite their bloody history, I’d never even seen one. But history and superstition had a way of influencing the villagers more than cold hard facts ever could. The Elders of the village decided to make an annual offering to the dragon tribe in exchange for their continued safety.
A human offering.
Lucky me.
No one knew what happened to the Chosen. They assured us that it wasn’t some kind of grisly human sacrifice, but what evidence did I have to go on? Each season, they pulled a name from all of the omegas of adult age. They exalted the Chosen as some sort of hero, but I knew better than that. They left with the shamans, and never returned.
Why they chose only omegas was beyond me. I’d cursed my bloodline more than once, wishing I had the alpha blood of some of my peers. They got the better treatment of everything. I’d say it wasn’t fair, but I was old enough to know that real life is hardly ever fair.
I was an omega, just like my mother and brother. And that meant I was on the chopping block for their little ritual.
I started when Elder Marin tapped me on the shoulder. He had a long, bushy white beard and eyebrows that nearly covered his vision. “Congratulations, Alec. This is such a great honor.”
His greasy smile made me want to barf.
I shook his hand weakly. “Thank you,” I mumbled, not daring to meet his gaze.
“You have tonight to pack your things and say your goodbyes. You must meet with the shamans at dawn.”
A stone of dread dropped into my stomach, weighing me down into the earth. At dawn. The sun was already setting. I didn’t have much time. I swallowed the thick lump of fear that stuck in my throat.
“Please,” I croaked. “You don’t need to do this.”
His eyes grew hard. “We must protect our village from the dragon threat. Why do you think we’ve had so many years of peace?” A vein bulged in his forehead.
I should have known better than to challenge him. But I was a dead man. What did it matter?
“The Choosing is final. I’ll see you at dawn.” With a whisk of his robes, he turned and walked away, leaving my heart thudding in my chest.
A heart that, if I didn’t do something, would soon stop forever.
I knew that the Elders were only doing what they thought was right. They were only doing what they’d always done.
But it was time for a new order. I wasn’t going to be part of their game.
I rushed to my family’s tent, sniffing away the tears that threatened to overflow.
They’d already heard the news, of course. But they needed to hear it from me. My mother, my little brother…without me, they’d be alone.
My mother Cilla’s health had deteriorated year by year, and as it was, I brought in most of the food and money to keep our little family alive. What were they going to do without me?
My little brother Samson was too young to work in the village. He helped me with cooking and gathering at home, and when he came of age he could find some paying work for the Council.
Until then, though, it was up to me.
But now I was leaving them.
I pushed open the tent flap to my family’s home. Cilla and Samson were already there, waiting for me. Mother looked tired, but no other emotion crossed her face. Perhaps she had already felt so much she couldn’t summon the tears anymore. Her eyes drooped low with dark circles from too many nights of missed sleep. Her mouth froze in a thin line, and tangles of hair that had once been blonde hung limply from her forehead.
She didn’t look at me. She never did. Always at the floor. At her feet. At anything but her own son.
Samson, on the other hand, was a mess.
He flew forward and attached himself to my leg as soon as I entered, sobbing great ugly sobs and drooling on my pant leg.
“Aleeeeec…” Samson wailed, burying his face in my leg. He made a snorting sound with his nose. I rubbed my hand through his curly hair and crouched down until we were at eye level with one another.
“Hey,” I said softly, giving his hand a squeeze. Samson sniffed and swiped at his face with the other hand. “It’s going to be all right.”
His eyes flickered and another tear spilled over, running down his streaked face. Samson’s lip quivered. “How do you know?” he asked.
“I’m going to make it all right,” I responded. I looked him straight in the eye. “Take good care of Mom for me, okay? Can you do that?”
He sniffed again and nodded.
“Are you coming back?” Samson asked, still clinging to me like a lifeline.
I winced. What could I even say to that? “I don’t know,” I said finally. That would have to be good enough.
After a time, he spoke again. “I love you.”
I smiled and leaned my forehead against his own. He didn’t deserve this. None of us did. “I love you too, Sam.” It took all my willpower to keep my voice steady. I had to be strong. For him.
Straightening, I gave him one last hug and stepped over to where my mother sat in her rocking chair. Her eyes barely registered my movement, simply staring off into space. They were coated with a milky pallor that heralded the loss of her vision. She was getting worse, then. I swallowed hard and took her hand.
“Mom.”
“Alec.”
We sat in silence like that for who knows how long, just holding hands and comforting one another. There was nothing I could say that the Elders hadn’t already said.
“I’m sorry,” I let out finally, holding her close to me. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, Alec. Such is the way of our people. It’s fine. Really.”
I grimaced. It was very much not fine, but Mother had never been one to show emotion openly.
“I don’t want to leave you.”
Her skin had taken on an almost translucent quality in her age, showing spots, freckles, and veins underneath. She felt so cold, so frail. But so strong at the same time.
She blinked up at me with those glassy eyes and I thought I could see the beginnings of tears.
“Go on, dear. Do your duty.”
She gave me a weak smile and kept on rocking, pulling a blanket around her lap.
I had so many things I wanted to say. So many memories, feelings, dreams. They crystallized on my tongue like maple candies and stuck there, refusing to move further.
“I love you, Mom.” That was the last sentence I could muster.
I tossed and turned that night in my small cot, listening to the steady snoring of Sam and my mother. Tonight was my last night with them. And in the morning, I’d be shipped off to the shamans, to go who-knows-where and do who-knows-what. One thing was for certain, though.
I probably wasn’t going to come back. And I probably wasn’t going to survive.
My teeth chattered together as I wrapped the thin blanket closer around myself. Who was I kidding? I wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight.
The sound of hoof beats and the sharp snap of something hitting the ground roused me from my sleepless haze.
Who was traveling this late at night? Steamshire was so far out of the way we barely ever had any traffic. The occasional passing caravan was a major event for our sleepy little village. But a small wagon passing in the dead of night? Strange, indeed.
Curious, I peeked out of the tent and saw a small carriage with a wagon attached. Must be some kind of merchant. The silhouette of a man stepped out of the carriage, backlit by the pale light of the full moon. He made small soothing sounds at the horses, then crouched down next to the wagon. He straightened almost instantly, hands on his hips.
He wasn’t going anywhere fast.
As the man dug into his wagon and pulled out a box of tools, a wild idea struck me.
This carriage could be the ticket to my freedom.
The stars twinkled and shone above with the moon, casting a desperate light on the last hours of darkness.
It would be dawn soon.
And my time was running out.
I glanced back at my mother and brother, still sleeping. Still oblivious.
The wagon looked spacious enough to hold plenty of goods, and had a canvas cover to protect it from the elements. If only I could get inside…
Fear and apprehension seized me.
I had no idea who this man was, where he was going, or what he might do if he found me.
But was the uncertain future as a stowaway better than my certain demise?
The seconds ticked by as I thought, weighing the pros and cons. I’d never even been outside of Steamshire. I’d lived in this village my entire life, sheltered by their rules and traditions. I had no idea what was out there.
For all I knew, the carriage man could be an enemy. He could kill me, or worse.
The Elders had wasted no time warning us what happened to stray omegas.
Still, a spark of possibility fluttered in my heart. I could take this chance. I could escape, right here, right now.
And I’d keep my promise to Samson. I’d come back. I’d rescue him and all the other omegas too. But first, I had to get out of here.
I set my jaw, balled my fists, and made up my mind.
Tonight, I was leaving Steamshire.
It didn’t take long to gather my paltry belongings. I’d already packed a bag for my meeting with the shamans. It wasn’t much.
A set of extra clothes. A water skin. And my most prized, most secret possession.
A small, fossilized fang.
I turned it over in my hands, feeling the smooth ivory texture. I’d found it when digging in the dirt as a child, and my mother had thrown it out as soon as she saw I had it.
Little did she know, I’d snuck out to retrieve it again, digging through our trash to find my prize. Even covered in dirt and stink, the fang fascinated me.
Like a relic from a bygone past, it represented all the things I didn’t know. All the things we were told were dangerous, foul, evil. The dragons.
Mother told us a dragon killed our father shortly after I was born. I was too young; I didn’t remember any of it. But dragon hysteria ran high in the village every year since, whisperings and rumors of a new onslaught. That’s when they started the Offering.
The fang was the last thing I had left of my father.
I squeezed my eyes shut, clasping it tight.
I’ll avenge you.
With a last look at my family, I hefted my bag over my shoulder and stole away into the night.
The Skinny on Djinn by EJ Russell
Chapter One
“Wow.” Hector Gonzales dropped his duffel next to a beat-up brown corduroy couch and looked around the surprisingly spacious living room. “This place is bigger than it looks from the outside.”
Hector’s friend Hugh grinned. “It’s not a TARDIS, Hector. It’s just laid out cleverly. I’ve always loved that about the place.” Hugh parked a rolling suitcase next to the cottage’s door. “Lachlan and I are thinking about asking the owner if she’s interested in selling it to us. We talked about maybe building an addition on the back—the lot’s big enough—but we really kinda like it this way.” Hugh chuckled. “Lachlan’s used to living on a boat, for Pete’s sake. A one-bedroom house is almost more space than he can handle.”
Hector blinked at that. He still couldn’t wrap his brain around how Hugh’s husband could fit on a boat unless it was the size of an ocean liner. Lachlan was a selkie. A really big selkie, like Jason-Momoa-as-Aquaman big. Looked like him too, for that matter. Hugh… Well, Hugh was human. Mostly. Although evidently getting married to a selkie made him part of the supernatural community as a sort of meta-supe.
“Are you sure I’m not putting you out?” Hector shifted from foot to foot, not really sure whether he should sit. “I know this was a little last-minute.”
“Nope! You’re doing me a favor, in fact.” Hugh’s grin glinted white against his brown beard. “I’m married”—his voice turned positively dreamy on that last word—“so it’s time to stop living like a college student or like somebody who might be moving on without more than a couple weeks’ notice.” He rubbed his hands together. “Roots, Hector. I never thought I’d plant any, but now that I’ve got more years ahead of me than I’d ever imagined, I’m ready to risk permanence. Or at least a new sofa. And with you here to handle the deliveries, it’s a perfect chance for me to spirit Lachlan away for some private R&R.”
Hector glanced around the living room. The furniture was clearly second-hand. Maybe third-hand, something Hector recognized and appreciated since his own home for the last two and a half years had been a shared residence with five other college-age werewolves. Werewolves of any age were, um, a little hard on their surroundings, and lately they’d added a nine-year-old and a literal hellhound to the mix.
He sighed, because he wasn’t allowed back in the Howling Residence—aka the Doghouse—while his case was under review by the supe council.
“Hector?” Hugh’s tone held affection and concern. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Mostly.” Hector smiled a little tightly. “But I miss the other guys. Not that most of ’em would be around much, anyway.”
Hugh’s brows bunched, but not in a frown. More like inquiry—Hugh was really into finding out more about the supernatural community, since he’d discovered it was real after wishing for it for most of his life. “Why not? Have they graduated or moved on or whatever you call it when you finish your Howling?”
“Not really? The werewolf council is revamping the Howling program, so the age and time limits aren’t as inflexible. We can apply to stay in any Residence as long as there’s space and we can convince the Howling board that we’ve got a legit reason. I can keep living there if I get accepted into the comp sci program at Northwest College of Arts and Sciences—”
“You will be. Bryce will make sure of it.”
Hector had his doubts about that. He regretted disappointing Professor MacLeod—Bryce—more than he regretted getting his ass kicked by the council. He didn’t have to lay that on Hugh, so he just cleared his throat. “It’s winter break now, though, so the other guys have gone back to their home packs for a visit. Well, except for Jordan, since he’s actually got a job in Portland.”
Hugh chuckled. “I defy anybody to be lonely around Jordan, let alone his attendant mini-pack.”
Hector snorted a laugh, too. “True that.” His friend Jordan was pretty much a circus, even without his little brother and hellhound companion in tow. But Jordan had been… different lately. And the reason for that difference was also the reason Hector was out here in this tiny town on the Oregon coast instead of back at the Doghouse, getting ready to start college.
“Hector?” The sympathy in Hugh’s voice made Hector wince. “I’m sure things will work out. You’re not a senior werewolf yet, so the tribunal will take that into account once your case goes to trial, right? Show leniency? Surely infractions aren’t punished as severely for juniors as for seniors.”
Hector shrugged. “Mostly.”
“And it’s not like you violated the Secrecy Pact or anything.”
Hector grimaced. No, he hadn’t exposed the existence of supes to humans. He’d done something worse.
He’d hacked the magic grid.
And although his hacks hadn’t actually damaged anything—he could swear to that—he hadn’t had explicit permission to do it. While his programs were in beta, there hadn’t seemed any point. What if they’d never worked? What if it took him years to work out the bugs? Better to get them tested and then spring them on the council, right?
Apparently not. So now here he was, in tech time-out, while the council debated his fate with what seemed like excruciating slowness. He was forbidden to even have a cell phone, for Remus’s sake. Who didn’t have a cell phone?
“I should have listened to you when you warned me.” He picked at the seam of his jeans. They were still a little loose—he hadn’t gained back the weight he’d lost during his bout with Hrodgar’s Syndrome the previous summer. “Come clean to Professor MacLeod about my app upgrades in the first place.”
Hugh patted his shoulder. “One thing I’ve learned about Bryce MacLeod? He’s far more interested in useful functionality than in outdated rules and traditions. However”—Hugh mock-glared at Hector—“he’s also very invested in the safety of the ecosystem. All ecosystems.”
“I didn’t hurt anything, I swear.” Hector hung his head, scuffing his faded black high-tops on the hardwood floor. “Nobody would ever have known if it hadn’t been for… for…”
“For the redcap who sneaked onto Lachlan’s boat to serve me with a lawsuit?”
“Yeah. That.” At least that had been the beginning of the whole fiasco.
The King had launched an internal investigation and charged his mages with altering the Fae Transportation Association spells so “drivers” could better keep track of their “riders.” And they’d discovered his hacks.
Next time, he’d cover his tracks better.
Or, you know, not do anything illegal again. But it was so hard when he could see a better solution laid out in his mind like Google Maps. Human technology and supe magic weren’t incompatible the way so many of the old guard claimed. They just needed the right interface. A handshake to let them talk to each other. And Hector had programmed the perfect handshake.
If only he’d asked before he’d acted.
Hugh propped his hands on his hips and looked around, a frown on his face. “I hope I’m not forgetting anything.”
“I’m sure the hotel will have whatever you need.”
Hugh grinned. “We’re not going to a hotel. Not a traditional one anyway. There’s this little spot under Loch Ness that… well, never mind.” He shouldered his camera bag and grabbed the handle of his suitcase. “I’m glad Ted and Quentin could spare you for this week. The Loch Ness, er, retreat isn’t always available.”
“I had to find somewhere else to stay, anyway. There’s a vampire conference up at Wildwood, and you know how vampires are about shifters.” Hector shared an eyeroll with Hugh. “They insisted that no shifters could be anywhere within a two-mile radius. Apparently some of the big honcho vampires are extra sensitive to shifter…”
Hugh cocked an eyebrow. “Stink?”
Hector wrinkled his nose as though he were the one overcome by an unpleasant stench. “Yeah. Even Ted had to clear out. He’s visiting his brother up in Montana while Quentin’s wrangling vampires. So I appreciate you letting me stay here.” Otherwise, he’d have had to return to the Umatilla pack, and he really didn’t want to hear any more from his papi and tios about how he should just come back, work on the farm, and stay out of trouble.
“Nonsense. Like I said, this fits in perfectly with my nefarious plans to keep my husband to myself for seven whole days.” Hugh edged toward the door, as though he couldn’t wait to get started. “If you need transportation, you can use my Honda.”
“That’s okay.” Hector gestured toward the window. “Ted loaned me his truck.” A good thing, since Hector didn’t have a car himself and he was forbidden from using the FTA to take the shortcut through Faerie from anywhere to anywhere.
“Of course he did.” Hugh’s eyes narrowed, his fingers tapping against his camera bag. “Since he did… How’d you like to make a couple hundred bucks?”
“Who wouldn’t?” Especially somebody like Hector, who had no income at all anymore. To “encourage” Hector to come home, Papi had cut off his allowance, claiming only avowed pack members were entitled to support, and so far, Hector hadn’t renounced his allegiance to the Doghouse pack. While the Doghouse guys were awesome, they didn’t have a lot of spare cash.
“The service that’s delivering the new bed, sofa, and chairs will take the old stuff away, but we’ve got some smaller stuff”—he gestured to a stack of boxes in the corner—“that needs to go over to Stuff ’n’ Things.”
“Stuff ’n’ Things?”
“The second-hand store in Dewton. It’s terrific.”
Hector brightened. “Oh, yeah. Chase and Tanner told me about that place. They said they saw a Kaypro II there last year.”
“I’m convinced that Stuff ’n’ Things is like that spot in Paris. The one where, if you sit there long enough, everybody in the world will pass by? Only at Stuff ’n’ Things, it’s more that if you look hard enough, you’ll find at least one of everything that’s ever been invented.”
“I’m happy to take the boxes over, but you don’t have to pay me. You’re letting me stay here—”
“Nope.” Hugh held up both hands. “No arguments. Like I said, you’re doing us the favor.” Hugh pulled his wallet out and peered inside. “Shoot. I don’t have much cash on me. It’s not something you really need at the bottom of Loch Ness. But I’ll pay you the rest when we get back.”
“Hugh, really—”
He waggled a finger. “Ah ah ah. No arguments, remember?” He pulled out a twenty and slapped it on the battered coffee table. “I’m pretty low on food at the moment, but I’ve told Fred at the market that you’ll be looking after the place for us.” He pointed to the money. “Don’t try to pay him with this, though. Any food you need, he’ll put on my account.”
“I can’t—”
“You can.” He smiled kindly. “Let me do this for you, Hector. You’ve helped me in the past, and after that last Quest case, we all need a little TLC, you know?”
Hector nodded, throat tight and belly curling in on itself. He still had nightmares about that case, and he was pretty sure Jordan hadn’t slept through the night for the last six weeks. “Thanks, Hugh. I really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.” He grabbed his suitcase handle again. “The delivery schedule’s on the fridge door. I’ve got to meet Lachlan up by the cave. Oh! You know about Ted’s cave, right?”
Hector nodded. “Yeah. Tanner told me about that last spring, after he and Chase stayed at Ted and Quentin’s cabin.”
“If you need to shift, that’s the best place to do it. It’s far enough from Wildwood that the vampires can’t complain, and far enough from Dewton that you won’t run into random, you know”—he gestured to himself—“humans.”
“Got it. Thanks.”
He paused by the door. “I almost forgot. The Wi-Fi password is—”
“Don’t tell me!” Hector crossed his forearms, fists closed, as though to ward off a necromancer’s curse. “As long as I’m on tech lockdown, it’s best if I’m not tempted, you know?”
“Of course.” Hugh gave him another warm smile. “And Hector? It’ll be okay.”
“Sure.” Hector doubted that. He doubted it very much. But in the meantime? He glanced at the stack of boxes as the door clicked shut behind Hugh. At least he could help out a friend.
Ambrosius by Taylor Rylan
1
Ambrosius
Isat back at my desk, staring at my bodyguard, Atticus. He was an enigma. I of course knew what type of paranormal he was, but he chose to keep that from others for good reason. I didn’t blame him one bit, nor would I ever share his secret. It wasn’t mine to tell.
I sighed, bored out of my mind because I had been told I needed to behave. Edison was a bore. Where did being a created one mean you couldn’t have fun? Why so serious all of the time?
I sighed again, getting Atticus’s attention. He raised an eyebrow at me, causing me to grin. My bodyguard shook his head and went back to reading his book. Perhaps that was it. Maybe I needed to get lost in another world for a bit?
I tossed my pen on the desk and spun around in the chair to take in the amazing view. The mountain was beautiful. Not as gorgeous as Sicily, but pretty in its own way. The trees had started to change, losing their bright green color. Of course, some would remain green all year according to Giovanni.
I smiled, thinking about Lucius’s young beloved. The way my too-serious second looked at his beloved was what life was all about. For far too long, Lucius had longed for someone such as Giovanni. Then he’d given up on ever finding his other half. And when he found him, only to have the young vampire on the brink of death, it made me wonder why fate worked the way it did. Things worked out for Lucius and Giovanni, but what about for those that it didn’t?
“Ambrosius, do you have the files from Lucius?”
I turned in my chair and regarded Edison. Thought about his question for a moment and shook my head. “I gave them to Sergei this morning. Were they to go to you instead?”
I honestly didn’t have a clue who was supposed to get them after I had read through them. I’d handed them off to both Edison and Sergei a time or two. Dane as well.
Edison made a growling noise, then was gone, leaving me to wonder what I’d done wrong, if anything. I still hadn’t figured out Edison, even after the several months we’d been near one another.
I looked to Atticus, who shrugged but stood up and went to the door. He stuck his head out, and I heard raised voices, so I decided to go investigate as well. When I arrived at the door, Atticus held me behind him, not allowing me to pass. I knew not to press my luck and that there was a reason for it, so I stayed put. Luckily for me, I was a bit taller than Atticus and could see around him.
I narrowed my eyes at Thomas when he zeroed in on me. I was not interested in talking to him just now. I was thrilled he’d finally found a chosen and was blissfully happy. But the fact that he and Canyon were now matching fated mates at a rapid rate meant trouble for the rest of us. That was why we were now here instead of my beautiful villa in Sicily.
I pulled Atticus back into the office, quickly closing the door behind us. Atticus glanced at me over his shoulder as the door opened again.
“You didn’t expect that to work, did you? He’s a fate. He can just open it with magic. Or just appear inside at will.”
I of course knew that. It was the hope that Thomas would get the hint and would not bother to come inside. I didn’t wish to talk to him. He wasn’t exactly my favorite, for reasons.
“Ambrosius. Good to see you again.”
“I wish I could say the same, Thomas. To what do I owe the pleasure?” I asked, hoping he wouldn’t answer and would simply leave. I walked back to my desk, leaving Atticus by his favored chair by the door. I leaned against the desk, crossing my legs at the ankles, hoping I gave off an indifferent attitude. In reality, I was both annoyed as well as a bit hurt but knew I couldn’t let it show.
“Actually, Edison is the reason I’m here.”
“You just missed him. He went that way somewhere,” I said, pointing at the door. “If you hurry, you can probably catch him. He was arguing with Sergei when you arrived.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that. Something about gargoyles?”
I shrugged. I didn’t know what they would be arguing about. Lucius had deemed them a good fit for the enforcers and approved them. Lucius had been with me more years than I could count, and if he felt they were a good fit, I wasn’t going to argue.
“The gargoyles aren’t the reason I’m here, Ambrosius.” Thomas sat in a chair in front of me, looking too pleased with himself, so I sat on my desk, trying to get comfortable and not convey my unease.
“Very well. Then what does Edison have to do with you being here, yet you’re in my office and not his?”
Thomas’s smile wasn’t one that made me feel better about what was going on. No, it was one much like I would have if I were up to something, which was frequently.
“It has been brought to my attention, by more than Edison I’ll add, that you, Ambrosius, don’t have your beloved. How is that, I wonder?”
I shrugged. Wasn’t he the matchmaker when it came to pairing up fated mates?
“I specifically remember matching you, Ambrosius. Where is he?”
I knew exactly who he was referring to and fought to not cringe. The young man in question, he was certainly not a good match for me.
“I would imagine that at this point he is no longer on this earth. That was several centuries ago.” I glanced toward Atticus, who was doing his absolute best to appear completely engrossed in the book he’d been reading. I knew differently though. This wasn’t the first time my lack of beloved had been questioned.
“What happened, Ambrosius?”
My attention was pulled back to Thomas. “You mean you don’t know?” How could he not? He was a fate. Didn’t he know all?
“I honestly don’t, Ambrosius. I’m trying to figure out how it is that you, the created vampire, don’t have your beloved? You should have children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren now.”
I glared at Thomas as I got up off my desk. I rounded it, taking my time, and sat in my chair. I picked up my pen and twirled it through my fingers while searching for the right words.
“Yes, well, you paired me with a young omega that was terrified of me. He was more than willing to jump on my dick, but when it came time to feed from him, he ran away, terrified. I honestly don’t know what became of him after he ran. He was a cute little fox shifter from what I remember, but beyond that, it was too long ago to recall anything.”
I tossed my pen to the desk, knowing my workday was finished. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate anymore after thinking about the young omega that was to be mine. I longed, desperately, for what Thomas had said. I wanted a beloved. I wanted someone to share my life with. Children, grandchildren. It was no fun drinking from a wineglass instead of from a warm and willing partner.
“Why didn’t you mention it to the goddess that things didn’t work out?”
“What would you have wished me to say? Oh, by the way, the omega I was paired with ran screaming, terrified into the night at the first sight of my fangs? Really, Thomas, I didn’t understand it then, nor do I now. He was a shifter. He should have expected to be bitten.”
“That is true. I don’t understand why he would run from you. The mutual pull should have been there.”
Thomas looked as if he were deep in thought. I honestly didn’t care one bit about the young fox shifter anymore. In all honesty, I wasn’t so sure he was a good fit for me anyway. Someone who was going to run from the first sight of a fang wasn’t a good match for a vampire.
I saved the files on my computer, more than ready to head to the house. Perhaps spending some time cuddling with little Angelo would put me in a better mood. I shut down my computer and stood. When I did, Atticus looked up at me. I nodded, and he immediately stood, ready to escort me back to the house.
“Where are you going?” Thomas asked as I rounded the desk to leave the office.
“Home. We’re finished here, no? There is no use bringing up old hurts, now is there?”
I continued on past Thomas, meeting Atticus at the door. Only Thomas was suddenly in front of me, blocking our exit.
“You need your beloved. You never should have been without one. How was it that you showed others that it was okay to accept who they were meant to be?”
“Easy, Thomas. Orgies. Lots of them. I fucked my way through half of Italy at one point. Are we finished here or not? I need to go reaffirm my place as the favorite uncle for a tiny little perfect one.”
I reached around Thomas, opening the door. When he moved to the side, I passed through, Atticus right behind me before he stepped up to just in front of me.
“Ambrosius, you need your beloved. It is time,” Thomas said behind me.
I stopped and turned. “I had one. He wasn’t a fit. That was the entire point of this conversation. Was it not?” We were gathering attention, and as I looked around, I saw not only Edison there with his ever-present Wallace, but Sergei and Chin, and Dane was there with Victoria. Lovely. Just what I needed.
“Are you quite finished yet?” I asked. It was my own fault for bringing this into the main foyer.
“No, Ambrosius.” Thomas slowly approached me. Before I knew what was happening, we were somewhere else. It took only a moment of taking in the different scenery for me to know we were in his realm. I raised my eyebrow at him. Atticus would be going nuts.
“You brought me here without my bodyguard. I do not wish to lose him as he’s quite good at what he does.”
“You won’t. Edison knows where you are and who you’re with.”
I sighed. “Very well. Let’s get this over with, shall we? What exactly is it that you wish to discuss? Other than the absurd idea that I need my beloved. I’ve lived this long without one. Don’t you think that at this point he or she would be…lacking for lack of a better word?”
“Lacking? Really?” Thomas asked while looking down his nose at me. “Are you implying that my own chosen is lacking because he’s mine now after over a millennium without him?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration. “Thomas, we were discussing mine, or lack thereof, not yours. I’m sure that Canyon is perfectly matched for you. I, on the other hand, have very particular…issues, according to most others.”
Thomas snorted. “That’s because you’ve not had your beloved to occupy you or keep you busy with little ones running around. Now, tell me one thing before I make a match. Do you wish to have a male or female beloved? I know that over the centuries you’ve not had a particular preference.”
I rolled my eyes and slowly shook my head. “Sex is enjoyable in all forms, Thomas.” I bit my lower lip and thought about the joys to be had and the advantages of having sex with other men.
"Yes, I would have to agree with you there. Now, about your beloved.” Thomas looked at me expectantly.
“What about him? He’s dead, I’m sure. Didn’t he get mated to someone else all those centuries ago?”
Thomas sighed. When his chosen suddenly appeared and wrapped his arms around him, pulling Thomas into the embrace, I turned away to give them their moment. Unfortunately, I knew I needed Thomas’s or Canyon’s help to get back to Treasure Ridge.
I started to walk toward a grove of trees. They were unlike any I’d seen before. They were purple. The grass under them was orange but didn’t crunch when I walked on it. I knelt down and found the grass to be soft and wondered about it.
“Gwendolyn likes to nap under these trees.”
I continued to run my fingers through the orange covering below me.
“I can see why. It’s like a plush blanket. Tell me why I’m here, Thomas. I really wish to go home and cuddle the baby.”
“But wouldn’t you rather cuddle your own? Do you not long for a family of your own, Ambrosius?”
I stood and sighed. “I’m quite difficult, so I’ve been told. And at times, I can be…childish.”
“Yes, well, how about a beloved to counter that all out? Someone to give you companionship, comfort, love, a house full of children?”
“Sure. I’ll get right on that. Will the next one be afraid of my fangs too? I would hope you choose more wisely this time, Thomas. I would hate for him to run off when it came time for me to drink from him again.”
I didn’t exactly expect a beloved. I was over a thousand years old. I was pretty sure, that is. I’d long ago given up keeping track.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had someone in my bed, let alone drank blood from them. Like Lucius, I’d taken to drinking from a wineglass because it was safer. Not only was I the created vampire, but for whatever reason, I was able to manipulate minds. I was the only one that could do it as far as we could tell. It was something I’d long ago stopped doing. There was simply no reason. My vampires were all masters at seduction and didn’t require the ability of coercion.
But so long ago, it was required in order for us to survive. So I did what was needed for those that were entrusted to me.
“Be serious for a moment, please, Ambrosius.”
“I am, Thomas. Just make sure he enjoys biting. Lots and lots of biting. And sex, because it’s been centuries since I’ve had the pleasure. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go home.”
Canyon said something, but I was too far away from the wolf shifter to hear what it was. It didn’t matter. I was over talking about beloveds and remembering the one I’d been paired with that didn’t want me. For so long, I’d felt such despair about the rejection. The pure horror in that young man’s eyes made it so that for a long time after, I got no pleasure from drinking from others. I made sure it was enjoyable for them, but for me, it was merely a requirement to survive.
“Ambrosius, you have my word it will be better this time around. I promise. He will be a perfect match. Someone who wants a forever mate and family.”
I sighed and shook my head. “Sure, Thomas. Just, whatever. I simply wish to go home. As beautiful as your realm is, I could really go for a glass of wine right about now.”
The defeat in my voice must have finally gotten through to him for I was suddenly standing in my home, facing the mountain. It was a gorgeous view, one I spent hours staring at because I had nothing better to do in the evenings.
After work, Lucius went back to his Giovanni, and although I could hang out on the first floor with Atticus and Reinhold when he was here, I often found myself seeking the solitude of my own space. The bodyguards, although amazing at what they did, didn’t need an ancient and lonely vampire dragging them down.
I turned away from the mountain and pulled out my phone.
Me:I’m back. Enjoy the rest of the evening off. I’ll be taking my dinner here in my quarters.
Atticus:Are you okay, Master?
Me:Perfect. It appears that Thomas had some things to discuss with me in private. I’ll see you in the morning at breakfast. Enjoy a run on the mountain if you feel up to it.
That would make him happy, right? Maybe? Possibly. I knew Atticus didn’t shift often. I knew why but didn’t necessarily agree with it.
Atticus:I’ll be there in five minutes. I’ll be downstairs if you should change your mind about dinner.
He would have Reinhold to enjoy the meal with. And if Lucius and Giovanni didn’t feel up to cooking, they would be down to eat with the baby. I smiled sadly thinking about Angelo. He was the light of his daddies’ lives. Never before had I seen a baby so loved. I’d seen many, too many to count, over the centuries. But the love Lucius had for Giovanni and now Angelo, it was something that everyone should hope for. The way Lucius looked at Giovanni. The awareness of his beloved at all times—it was simply…what was it? Beautiful.
My phone buzzed in my hand once again. It was Lucius, asking what was going on. I glanced at the mountain once more before replying.
Me:I’ll tell you while holding Angelo. I’ll be down after I change.
I knew that if I truly pushed the issue, Lucius would let it drop. Except what Thomas had been talking about would have an impact on my second and his family. If there was the possibility of someone else that would be in the house, they needed to know. I went to the bedroom to change out of my suit and into something a bit more comfortable for the evening. Perhaps some time with little Angelo would help calm my racing mind.
I wasn’t so sure I still wanted a beloved. How could I possibly mesh my life with someone else’s? Then again, Lucius had done just that. But Giovanni was absolutely perfect. I knew he struggled with feeling as if he fit into our world, but that was just it. He did perfectly because he was the perfect counterbalance for Lucius. Would I be so lucky? Was it possible?
I walked across the sparse space to my bedroom to change. Perhaps Lucius would have a bit of advice for me. He was good about that.
Loki and His Master by Rhys Lawless
Tomasz
“Are you sure you want to do this?” the old woman asked.
She didn’t appear old, per se, but looking at her, the only thing that came to mind was Matka Ziemia, the powerful Slavic deity I’d grown up to equally love and fear.
“I’m sorry to disappoint, young man, but I’m not her,” she said as if she could read my mind.
Right. I had been warned about her.
Be careful what you think of, my boss had said.
It seemed he was right.
“It-it’s okay,” I managed to mumble.
I was terrified of her, yet drawn to her bright green eyes, which seemed to have an inhuman glow in the darkness of the underground chamber.
The same eyes that seemed intent on burning me with their intensity. Instead of returning her gaze, I focused on the fire in the pit between us.
It seemed a little cliché for this sage old witch to be hiding in a dark cave lit by torches and balefire, surrounded by old hardbound books and cobwebs, but I guessed some witches took themselves a lot more seriously than others.
“So?” she said under the hood of her black cloak, her curly hair spilling out from beneath it, creating a frame around her face. “What is your answer, young whisperer?”
The fire pulsed. It thrummed in my ears. I didn’t know how it could do such a thing, but that was the only way I could explain it.
Or maybe I was losing it.
I was sitting in an underground cave in the middle of Camden, after all.
But its beat, its song, brought up all the images, all the horror, all the loss.
The memories I wanted to erase with every fiber of my being, but doing so would mean I’d live under the illusion that they were still alive and they weren’t.
And those who murdered them needed to pay.
“So much anger. So much hatred,” she whispered.
“Let me guess. You’re going to tell me I need to let go, to clear my mind, that revenge is never the answer?” I told her, looking at her with defiance I hadn’t been feeling before.
She cocked her head, and without missing a beat opened her red lips. “No. Use it,” she said.
The memories assaulted my mind again. The chaos. The mess. The blood.
And for what? For a stupid, fucking egg!
The flames of the fire seemed to burn brighter, licking my skin and lending me their heat. Within seconds my insides were just as hot. I caught my breath, felt my heartbeat pounding in my ears, tasted the bile on my tongue.
“Do it!” I told her.
I stretched my hand over the fire and she held out a dagger.
No. Not a dagger. A sword.
The silver blade glinted, reflecting the light and I caught the markings on the surface. Knots. Decorative knots that seemed to never end.
With the tip of the sword she pricked my finger and let my blood trickle down the blade and paint it red.
Then she got up and walked into one of the many doorways, tunnels branching out from the center of the room, dragging the sword, a red line coloring the floor behind her.
Even though she’d only taken a drop or two, the blood gushed from the blade.
What have I just done?
“Are you coming?” she asked before disappearing completely.
I rushed to my feet. It was dark in the tunnel but somehow I knew where I needed to go and when I needed to stop. When there was light again I found myself in a long, cold room with a stainless steel wall.
Along the wall were small doors. Rows and rows of them.
Wait a minute. Is…
“Is this a morgue?” I asked her as she opened one door and confirmed the answer to my question. “I thought we were summoning a demon.”
She leaned over the large man in the drawer. He was covered in a thin gold membrane but was otherwise butt-naked.
The witch looked up at me and smirked.
“A demon, young whisperer, needs a body,” she answered and before I even had a chance to digest her words, she lifted the sword and impaled the man with the bloody sword.
Shit.
Maybe this was a bad idea.
“Too late now, little whisperer. Your demon is about to awaken.”
Nell Iris is a romantic at heart who believes everyone deserves a happy ending. She’s a bona fide bookworm (learned to read long before she started school), wouldn’t dream of going anywhere without something to read (not even the ladies’ room), loves music (and singing along at the top of her voice but she’s no Celine Dion), and is a real Star Trek nerd (Make it so). She loves words, bullet journals, poetry, wine, coffee-flavored kisses, and fika (a Swedish cultural thing involving coffee and pastry!)
Nell believes passionately in equality for all regardless of race, gender or sexuality, and wants to make the world a better, less hateful, place.
Nell is a bisexual Swedish woman married to the love of her life, a proud mama of a grown daughter, and is approaching 50 faster than she’d like. She lives in the south of Sweden where she spends her days thinking up stories about people falling in love. After dreaming about being a writer for most of her life, she finally was in a place where she could pursue her dream and released her first book in 2017.
Nell Iris writes gay romance, prefers sweet over angsty, short over long, and quirky characters over alpha males.
Connor Crowe grew up reading stories about dragons, magic, and adventure. He often liked to imagine himself as a character in those stories, and as he grew older he began to write some of them down. He couldn't just write any old fantasy, though. As a die-hard romantic, he tells stories of men finding true love amidst adversity.
When you read a Connor Crowe book, you know you're getting action-packed fantasy mpreg that will make your heart race in more ways than one ;)
Multi-Rainbow Award winner E.J. Russell—grace, mother of three, recovering actor—holds a BA and an MFA in theater, so naturally she’s spent the last three decades as a financial manager, database designer, and business intelligence consultant (as one does). She’s recently abandoned data wrangling, however, and spends her days wrestling words.
E.J. is married to Curmudgeonly Husband, a man who cares even less about sports than she does. Luckily, CH loves to cook, or all three of their children (Lovely Daughter and Darling Sons A and B) would have survived on nothing but Cheerios, beef jerky, and satsuma mandarins (the extent of E.J.’s culinary skill set).
E.J. lives in rural Oregon, enjoys visits from her wonderful adult children, and indulges in good books, red wine, and the occasional hyperbole.
The Men of Crooked Bend Series is what started it all for me and it was incredibly difficult to let those men go. It was originally supposed to be a trilogy but it ended up as a ten book series with a bonus book that's part of The Snow Globe Christmas Series. In the Men of Crooked Bend series, you get to know the cowboys and other men of Wild Creek Ranch in Crooked Bend, Wyoming (a totally fictitious town). The series is set in the foothills of the Grand Teton Mountains, a place I fell in love with as a teenager.
I have a closely related spin-off series called Sulfur Springs. In it you leave Wild Creek and go to the little neighbor town of Sulfur Springs and meet the sexy men of the Sulfur Springs Fire Depart, the sheriff's department, as well as quite a few US Marshals. You see some familiar faces but you also meet some very new ones. It’s finally finished and ended up being a nine book series.
I love to read, it’s always been one of my favorite things to do since I can remember. When I started writing, I couldn't decide if I wanted to write contemporary or paranormal as I love both. I chose contemporary but still, paranormal was talking to me and those darn shifters kept saying, “tell our story, it’ll be fun.” So I did. And it was. That’s how I started my Honey Creek Den series. Honey Creek is another totally fictitious town set on Flathead Lake (a real place) in Montana. I've never been there, but hope to get there at some point. Honey Creek Den is finished with the planned six books. The Timber Valley Wolf Pack is also finished with six books and now I've moved onto the Warlocks of Amherst Series. This series takes us away from the den and pack and we get to know Edison's warlocks in Amherst, Massachusetts.
When I'm not busy writing about cowboys, architects, sheriffs, firefighters, US Marshals, bears, tigers, or warlocks (to name just a few), I like to read (who doesn't?). Because of my limited free time, I’m fond of short stories and novellas. I can be found on Amazon, Book Bub, Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.
Rhys Everly-Lawless is a hopeless romantic who loves happily-ever-afters.
Which would explain why he loves writing them.
When he's not passionately typing out his next book, you can find him cuddling his dog, feeding his husband, or taking long walks letting those plot bunnies breed ferociously in his head.
He writes contemporary gay romances as Rhys Everly and LGBTQ+ urban fantasy and paranormal romances as Rhys Lawless.
Nell Iris
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EMAIL: contact@nelliris.com
Connor Crowe
And Then They Were Three by Nell Iris
The Dragon's Runaway Omega by Connor Crowe
The Skinny on Djinn by EJ Russell
Ambrosius by Taylor Rylan
Loki and His Master by Rhys Lawless
