Summary:
THIS COLLECTION CONTAINS A SERIES OF NINE BOOKS ABOUT JACK ADDISON’S ADVENTURES.
“Any monster is a lover if you’re brave enough.”
Jack Addison. Son of a world famous monster hunter. Irresistible jerk. Monster-curious.
Roux Chat-Bonnes. Ginger. Furry. Claws like razors and a tongue to match!
At just nineteen, Jack’s fresh out of a prestigious academy, set to make a name for himself as a monster hunter in a world where people need protection from strange and dangerous creatures.
Raised to see nonhumans as monsters to be eradicated, or at the very least—inferior beings, he soon finds out that he’s been taught lies, and his initial distrust of creatures turns into fascination that goes beyond anything his father could imagine.
After an encounter with a giant spider, Jack falls down a rabbit hole of affairs with werewolves, kitsune, a centaur, a merman, a tentacle creature called Nessie, and even a vampire!
But all of those dalliances fade in comparison to his one true heart throb—Roux Chat-Bonnes, a cat-like being, and his most vicious rival. As brave as he is infuriating, and as furry as he is sexy, Roux is the moral compass Jack wishes he didn’t have.
If he ever wants to win Roux’s heart, he needs to prove that he’s more than just a handsome jerk sneaking around with any monster he can get his hands on, but a man brave enough to do what’s right, even if it makes him unpopular. Even if that means standing up to his famous father.
This series/serial was amazing but I'll admit it's not for everyone as some of the heat is a little "out there" but incredibly powerful. As for Jack Addison, we see him mature from a venator seeking fame and fortune to a man with a conscience that begins to see the bigger picture and realize his true path. Roux Chat-Bonnes is a determined Chat venator who seems a little out of his depth because of who and what he is and though he isn't out for fame and fortune like Jack in the beginning he too grows into the Chat he's meant to be. Together their bickering, bantering, and obvious attraction makes this journey a fun, humorous, heart-filled read that ticked all of my rom-com, paranormal, erotica, fantasy, and drama boxes. KA Merikan's Jack Addison vs. A Whole World of Hot Trouble is a definite must for fans of well written, character driven, intriguing world building, fun, and a bit "out there" storytelling.
For a closer look at the series and my original reviews follow these links:
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5
RATING:
Summary:
Psychic Detective Mysteries #1
Liam Baker can see things. Dead people like to visit him and tell them how they were wronged. Some might call it a gift, other’s a curse. But either way this ability makes him useful to Los Angeles homicide detective Kimball Thompson.
Some madman is slitting the throats of young male prostitutes and then dumping their bodies in the desert with vague clues of pink feathers and the number five. Usually Liam can talk to the spirits of the dead. But someone is blocking him. Someone is taunting him.
The case is rapidly deteriorating into a violent, psychic pissing contest and Liam can’t see far enough ahead to figure out who wins or who dies.
Summary:
Ellowyn Found #2
Hate consumes.
But love waits…
After Asa ran from the lover who betrayed him, he vowed revenge. Now, years later, a powerful vampire wants him to steal seven necklaces from the king of the Ellowyn—or murder him. When Asa discovers that the king is his long lost love, he stumbles into a web of secrets and dark power plays he might not escape, because Asa isn’t the only one who wants the king dead.
A promise he made long ago is tearing Zeveriah apart. He’s a false king, haunted by his past and despised by many of his own kind. When a new employee, who looks uncannily like his old love, appears at the royal manor, Zev thinks he’s found his fated one again. But this lookalike calls himself Emek and can’t hide his horror of vampires. Zev longs to woo him back, but the annual coven meeting and threats to his life demand his attention. Though he escapes a mysterious attack, one of the lesser princes isn’t so lucky, and all signs point to Asa as the killer.
Now with a murderer running loose and enemies surrounding him, Zev has one last chance to save his love.
But time is running out.
Are you looking for a romance that smolders with passion? Then you’ll love A Vampire’s Promise, because it’s an intense, enemies to lovers, second chance romance that will stay with you a long time. You’ll getvampires, mystery, and fated love. Plus, it comes with a satisfying conclusion to the love story and a central mystery that weaves the trilogy together. Don’t miss it!
This is book 2 of the trilogy. Please note that the previous book, A Vampire’s Heart, should be read first for full enjoyment.
Summary:
WCPC Paranormal Consultants #1
Kayden and Bryan find a way to deal with the demons that the consultants at WCPC can’t handle.
WCPC handles all your paranormal needs. Poltergeists, ghosts, or mystical apparitions, we can help. We employ the most talented wranglers who can control even the toughest demons around. Call the consultants of Watercrest Cannon Paranormal Consultants to help.
Broody wrangler and tactile psychic take on the mystery at Brown-Blythe Manor - Sometimes Demons Whisper.
I'll be honest, this short novella seemed to get off to a bit of a slow start, ALTHOUGH the book I read before this was a completely different genre and I wasn't 100% in the mood for a paranormal so I'm sure that factored into how my mindset grasped what I was reading. After I hit around the 15% mark I was getting into the swing of things and after that the story started to speak to me. Sometimes Demons Whisper is a really great introduction to this new WCPC Paranormal Consultants series by Lynn Michaels, I don't know just how many entries the author plans on but the possibilities are vast and you get a great sense and feel for whats to come.
Bryan and Kayden have this amazing chemistry that has so much promise but that's all I will really say to the plot as Sometimes Demons Whisper is a paranormal and personally I think most paranormals need to be experienced "cold turkey" without much given away. I will say be in the mood for a paranormal/fantasy genre when you pick this one up or you might be like me and take a bit to connect but once you do it is definitely worth the read. As I stated above, because it took me a bit to really get my teeth sunk in I am pretty sure I'll be re-reading Sometimes Demons Whisper again when I go to read the next entry and I am already looking forward to doing so and seeing what kind of demons and mysticals the WCPC Paranormal Consultants will be facing.
Summary:
Trice City Lovers #1
Chanda is the Lord of Honey Flower House, which caters to those who have a taste for the paranormal between the sheets. Being an incubus makes him all the better at the job, even if it also leaves him lonely.
Then a demon appears on his doorstep in search of a missing person, and Chanda is quickly reminded why he prefers the relatively quiet life as master of a pleasure house—but also reminds him of a bitter past he's tried to leave behind, and dreams he gave up on a long time ago.
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Random Paranormal Tales of 2019
Jack Addison vs. a Whole World of Hot Trouble: The Complete Series by KA Merikan
Jack sat in his opulently decorated room with hastily made notes. How had he even gotten here in the end? He should have ditched the conference being held for an idea he despised and tried to find Roux, but if he made Father look bad by ignoring the keynote speech, their relationship might not survive. He would never spew anti-creature nonsense the way he used to before he discovered the truth, but stories about his travels could hardly do any harm. After his family supporting him for so many years, he owed Father that much
It wasn’t a big deal.
So why was his stomach in knots? Even the view of the grand Versailles gardens couldn’t lift his mood.
That was pretty clear, no matter how much his mind tried to deny facts. Ditching Roux like this and, trying to hide the truth from him made him a lousy person, and an even lousier partner. The only thing keeping his heart from collapsing was the thought that maybe his stories could shed a different light on creatures and sow the right seeds in at least some minds. Ones that weren’t completely hardened yet.
He squeezed the paper as his chest tightened again.
He didn’t want to be here, socializing with people who’d likely treat Roux like trash or with polite hostility, at best. He wanted to be at Roux’s side, stargazing and walking the narrow streets of Montmartre, cuddling into his warm, fragrant fur.
The knock on the door made him groan. Was it really his time already? He glanced to the tall window. Despite the cold weather outside, the garden beckoned him with promises of freedom.
“Come in…” he groaned without enthusiasm.
A hotel worker in a neat burgundy uniform entered, carrying a tray of food and two glasses of wine. “Good afternoon, Mr. Addison.”
Jack offered him a smile, because what was the point of unloading his frustration on anyone but himself? “What is it?”
Cute dimples appeared in the man’s cheeks when he smiled. “Mr. Addison… I’m so sorry to impose, but I wanted to treat you, and I was hoping you would sign my venator card?” He put the tray on the bed and fished a little collectible wallet out of his pocket.
Jack’s shoulders slumped, and he grabbed a pen from the nightstand before scribbling his name on the back of the card featuring a photo of him holding a whole bundle of necrorats.
He didn’t deserve the high stats he had in the Game of Venators.
“Here you go.”
“Thank you very much!” The man blew at the ink to make it dry faster, but he didn’t seem ready to leave. “About the symposium… I cannot wait to hear you speak, Mr. Addison. I’ve read so much about you.”
Jack’s lips tightened. “The reporters exaggerate all stories. I’m just a venator like many others.”
Sometimes Demons Whisper by Lynn Michaels
I paused at the door, listening to the crunch of the lock turning, not believing Bryan had left me alone. Again. He should have been there, should have picked me up from the hospital. This thing…this emptiness inside me…was Bryan's fault. Couldn't the man give me just an ounce of support?
I shoved the door open and dropped my duffle bag inside on the crappy linoleum floor that was supposed to look like tile, but didn't. I wouldn’t really need anything in my bag immediately. I could deal with unpacking later. I needed to relax and be happy that they’d let me go home.
Walking into the dining area, I stopped. The hairs on the back of my neck rose like minuscule heads turning into a scream. I could smell his cologne before I even saw him sitting there at my dining room table. Parts of his gun were spread out across the cheap formica table. Bryan cleaned his weapon with oil and really long cotton swabs, fingering the parts expertly and making little clicking sounds that I had always associated with the task. He couldn’t fucking pick me up, but he could use my table to clean his weapons?
“What are you doing here?”
“Hey, babe…” He didn’t even bother looking up at me.
Something was wrong. Off. I could tell by the tone of his voice—the way he wouldn't even glance in my direction, and maybe the overly intense concentration he gave his weapon. Clearing my throat, I asked again, “Bryan? What are you doing here?”
He stopped and set the main stock and barrel on the table before taking a long drag of a cigarette. He flicked the ashes on the floor. Bryan didn't smoke, and if he did, he wouldn't be so rude as to flip the ashes on my floor, even if it was cheap linoleum that had seen better days with stains from drinks and holes and rips from furniture being slid too roughly across it. This wasn't my Bryan.
“What the fuck? What are you doing? Bry?”
“Eating. It's breakfast, isn't it?” He snapped the final pieces of his gun in place and flipped it around, tucking the barrel into his mouth, between his sweet lips. The cigarette hung precariously between his two fingers the whole time. Those familiar lips plumped around the metal suggestively.
Too many sleepless nights and long, drawn-out days rushed over me. “Stop, stop! What the hell? Stop it, Bryan!” I grabbed his shoulders and shook him.
He laughed. Laughed like he’d just heard the funniest joke in the world—the kind of laugh that left kinks in your side. His weapon disappeared, and he hugged his ribs. Who was I looking at? Who was this?
“You're not Bryan.” I stepped back, wanting to put distance between us. My fingers where I’d touched him turned cold—numb.
“Everyone leaves, Chad,” he said, his voice husky with more rasp than it had ever had before. “Everyone leaves you! Even your precious Bryan. You don’t deserve anything else…” He pointed one long finger at me. His words hung in the air. I realized the voice was all wrong, and it creeped me the fuck out. It wasn't Bryan's voice at all, but my own, nearly an octave higher than Bryan's. The man that looked like Bryan yelled and spat. “Even the demon left you…Chad. What do you expect?”
I didn't hear the end of his tirade over my own screaming.
Jack sat in his opulently decorated room with hastily made notes. How had he even gotten here in the end? He should have ditched the conference being held for an idea he despised and tried to find Roux, but if he made Father look bad by ignoring the keynote speech, their relationship might not survive. He would never spew anti-creature nonsense the way he used to before he discovered the truth, but stories about his travels could hardly do any harm. After his family supporting him for so many years, he owed Father that much
It wasn’t a big deal.
So why was his stomach in knots? Even the view of the grand Versailles gardens couldn’t lift his mood.
That was pretty clear, no matter how much his mind tried to deny facts. Ditching Roux like this and, trying to hide the truth from him made him a lousy person, and an even lousier partner. The only thing keeping his heart from collapsing was the thought that maybe his stories could shed a different light on creatures and sow the right seeds in at least some minds. Ones that weren’t completely hardened yet.
He squeezed the paper as his chest tightened again.
He didn’t want to be here, socializing with people who’d likely treat Roux like trash or with polite hostility, at best. He wanted to be at Roux’s side, stargazing and walking the narrow streets of Montmartre, cuddling into his warm, fragrant fur.
The knock on the door made him groan. Was it really his time already? He glanced to the tall window. Despite the cold weather outside, the garden beckoned him with promises of freedom.
“Come in…” he groaned without enthusiasm.
A hotel worker in a neat burgundy uniform entered, carrying a tray of food and two glasses of wine. “Good afternoon, Mr. Addison.”
Jack offered him a smile, because what was the point of unloading his frustration on anyone but himself? “What is it?”
Cute dimples appeared in the man’s cheeks when he smiled. “Mr. Addison… I’m so sorry to impose, but I wanted to treat you, and I was hoping you would sign my venator card?” He put the tray on the bed and fished a little collectible wallet out of his pocket.
Jack’s shoulders slumped, and he grabbed a pen from the nightstand before scribbling his name on the back of the card featuring a photo of him holding a whole bundle of necrorats.
He didn’t deserve the high stats he had in the Game of Venators.
“Here you go.”
“Thank you very much!” The man blew at the ink to make it dry faster, but he didn’t seem ready to leave. “About the symposium… I cannot wait to hear you speak, Mr. Addison. I’ve read so much about you.”
Jack’s lips tightened. “The reporters exaggerate all stories. I’m just a venator like many others.”
Sometimes Demons Whisper by Lynn Michaels
I paused at the door, listening to the crunch of the lock turning, not believing Bryan had left me alone. Again. He should have been there, should have picked me up from the hospital. This thing…this emptiness inside me…was Bryan's fault. Couldn't the man give me just an ounce of support?
I shoved the door open and dropped my duffle bag inside on the crappy linoleum floor that was supposed to look like tile, but didn't. I wouldn’t really need anything in my bag immediately. I could deal with unpacking later. I needed to relax and be happy that they’d let me go home.
Walking into the dining area, I stopped. The hairs on the back of my neck rose like minuscule heads turning into a scream. I could smell his cologne before I even saw him sitting there at my dining room table. Parts of his gun were spread out across the cheap formica table. Bryan cleaned his weapon with oil and really long cotton swabs, fingering the parts expertly and making little clicking sounds that I had always associated with the task. He couldn’t fucking pick me up, but he could use my table to clean his weapons?
“What are you doing here?”
“Hey, babe…” He didn’t even bother looking up at me.
Something was wrong. Off. I could tell by the tone of his voice—the way he wouldn't even glance in my direction, and maybe the overly intense concentration he gave his weapon. Clearing my throat, I asked again, “Bryan? What are you doing here?”
He stopped and set the main stock and barrel on the table before taking a long drag of a cigarette. He flicked the ashes on the floor. Bryan didn't smoke, and if he did, he wouldn't be so rude as to flip the ashes on my floor, even if it was cheap linoleum that had seen better days with stains from drinks and holes and rips from furniture being slid too roughly across it. This wasn't my Bryan.
“What the fuck? What are you doing? Bry?”
“Eating. It's breakfast, isn't it?” He snapped the final pieces of his gun in place and flipped it around, tucking the barrel into his mouth, between his sweet lips. The cigarette hung precariously between his two fingers the whole time. Those familiar lips plumped around the metal suggestively.
Too many sleepless nights and long, drawn-out days rushed over me. “Stop, stop! What the hell? Stop it, Bryan!” I grabbed his shoulders and shook him.
He laughed. Laughed like he’d just heard the funniest joke in the world—the kind of laugh that left kinks in your side. His weapon disappeared, and he hugged his ribs. Who was I looking at? Who was this?
“You're not Bryan.” I stepped back, wanting to put distance between us. My fingers where I’d touched him turned cold—numb.
“Everyone leaves, Chad,” he said, his voice husky with more rasp than it had ever had before. “Everyone leaves you! Even your precious Bryan. You don’t deserve anything else…” He pointed one long finger at me. His words hung in the air. I realized the voice was all wrong, and it creeped me the fuck out. It wasn't Bryan's voice at all, but my own, nearly an octave higher than Bryan's. The man that looked like Bryan yelled and spat. “Even the demon left you…Chad. What do you expect?”
I didn't hear the end of his tirade over my own screaming.
K.A. Merikan are a team of writers who try not to suck at adulting, with some success. Always eager to explore the murky waters of the weird and wonderful, K.A. Merikan don’t follow fixed formulas and want each of their books to be a surprise for those who choose to hop on for the ride.
K.A. Merikan have a few sweeter M/M romances as well, but they specialize in the dark, dirty, and dangerous side of M/M, full of bikers, bad boys, mafiosi, and scorching hot romance.
S.C. Wynne started writing m/m in 2013 and did look back once. She wanted to say that because it seems everyone’s bio says they never looked back and, well S.C. Wynne is all about the joke. She loves writing m/m and her characters are usually a little jaded, funny and ultimately redeemed through love.
S.C loves red wine, margaritas and Seven and Seven’s. Yes, apparently S.C. Wynne is incredibly thirsty. S.C. Wynne loves the rain and should really live in Seattle but instead has landed in sunny, sunny, unbelievably sunny California. Writing is the best profession she could have chosen because S.C. is a little bit of a control freak. To sit in her pajamas all day and pound the keys of her laptop controlling the every thought and emotion of the characters she invents is a dream come true.
If you’d like to contact S.C. Wynne she is amusing herself on Facebook at all hours of the day or you can contact her at scwynne@scwynne.com.
So… About me. I’ve never run a marathon or scaled Mt. Everest. I’ve never scuba dived or sky dived. I’ve surfed though. That was fun. I have six tattoos, and I really love ink. I also love all plants. Zinnias are one of my favorite flowers. If you’ve never see a zinnia, look it up. Very pretty. It’s an old-timey plant but super easy to grow. Anyway, the big thing I do is write m/m erotic romance. But as much as I love romance and sex, I really love going deep into the dark with my characters. What are their wounds? How can I peel them raw and drag them into the light? This leads to some fairly dark stories sometimes, but even the dark ones come with humor. I think the contradictions in people are ripe for hilarious scene setups. I need humor and light in my life—otherwise, I go into some pretty dark places myself. I live with only one cat now—I once had thirteen. That was crazy. I take up most of the things I research for my characters—photography, tarot, and jewelry making for example. I even bought a recorder once because Ori from Jesus Kid played one. I love that part of my job. I also love to walk and lift weights. I’m not a big fan of yoga—just throwing that out there. So far, all of my characters embody something of me, and all of my characters have given me something of them. But no matter what the struggle is from book to book, love always wins out. I'm strong on plot, strong on character, stronger on love. You can count on happily ever after from me every time. I write my stories to open hearts and uplift spirits. Love matters. It counts. And it's for everyone.
Lynn Michaels lives and writes in Tampa, Florida where the sun is hot and the Sangria is cold. Lynn is the newest addition to Rubicon Fiction, and she loves reading and writing about hot men in love. She writes paranormal and contemporary MM Romance.
Megan is a long time resident of m/m fiction, and keeps herself busy reading, writing, and publishing it. She is often accused of fluff and nonsense. When she's not involved in writing, she likes to cook, harass her cats, or watch movies (especially all things James Bond). She loves to hear from readers, and can be found all around the internet.
KA Merikan
EMAIL: kamerikan@gmail.com
SC Wynne
WEBSITE / NEWSLETTER / KOBO
EMAIL: scwynne@scwynne.com
Kayleigh Sky
Megan Derr
EMAIL: meganaderr@gmail.com
Jack Addison vs. a Whole World of Hot Trouble: The Complete Series by KA Merikan
Shadow's Edge by SC Wynne
A Vampire's Promise by Kayleigh Sky
Sometimes Demons Whisper by Lynn Michaels
Love Tokens by Megan Derr
