FINISHED & SUBMITTED: The Vampire's Touch

THE VAMPIRE'S TOUCH

Vampire Chronicles 3

coming January 2018

All Charlie O'Bannon wanted for the new year was to get laid. Attending the company New Year's Eve party seems like the perfect place to find someone, but when the clock strikes midnight and he grabs the closet person to him and plants a big kiss on him, he's not prepared for the firestorm that ignites.

Marcus Aguilera is the leader of his vampire tribe. He has always known he would have a vampire as his mate. It was tradition, and he was nothing if not traditional. When a gorgeous man with sultry eyes plants a kiss on his lips at the stroke of midnight, Marcus is stunned that he has finally found his rajaaka. He's devastated when he realizes his mate is human, and leaves him after a night of passion.

But the fates will not be denied. When Charlie's path crosses with Marcus's again, the two men have to decide if they will accept the gift fate has given them or if they will fight what was meant to be. The world around them is changing. There are those who will fight beside them and those that will do everything to destroy them. Only by holding on to each other do they have a chance of surviving.

http://www.stormyglenn.com/thevampirestouch.htm

STORY EXCERPT

"Five… four… three…"

Charlie O'Bannon laughed as someone on a loud speaker counted down the seconds to midnight. He never knew a New Year's Eve party could be so much fun.

"Two… one…"

The spirit of celebration, excitement, and maybe just a little too much hot spiced rum, made Charlie feel bold and inhibited. The moment someone shouted "Happy New Year", Charlie swung around and grabbed the closest person to him and smacked their lips together.

When he felt strong hands grab his hips and pull him close to a wonderfully hard body. A rough tongue brushed against his. Charlie leaned into the kiss, all but melting against whoever held him.

Charlie had purposely stood under the mistletoe just for this reason. He had one New Year's resolution this year and he planned to get it one way or another. He wanted to get laid before the end of the year. He was going to start the new year with a new outlook on life. He was going to start the year without being a virgin.

The lips pressed against his were hard and searching, demanding, and Charlie loved every moment of it. The low growl that rumbled through the chest pressed against his sent tingles of desire shooting through every nerve ending in Charlie's body.

He moaned and pushed closer, wanting to feel every contour of the hard body holding him. Charlie couldn't remember the last time someone had kissed him with such passion...maybe never.

The mouth that hungrily covered his made him feel something all right, mostly the hard cock pressed against his abdomen. Charlie was thrilled, but only because it was a man holding him. At the beginning of the night when he'd devised his plan, Charlie hadn't been particular. He would have taken a man or a woman.

He was much happier with a man, though.

And the one holding him, kissing him with a cruel ravishment, was perfect as far as Charlie was concerned. There was such passion in the kiss, such hunger. Charlie was shocked at his own eager response.

The lips kissing him left his mouth to nibble a path to his earlobe. Charlie moaned, arched his head back, baring his neck. He felt small pricks of pleasure and pain as the man's teeth raked across his tender throat. The lips moving over his skin were still warm and moist from the kiss.

Charlie's heart began to hammer in his chest. His skin prickled at the man's touch, little shocks of electricity shooting through his body.

"You will be mine, kisa."

Charlie shuddered, the deep timber tone of the man's voice whispered in his ear making his knees quake. The man didn't question, he didn't ask. He demanded, as if he knew Charlie was helpless to deny any want he had.

Charlie nodded. A hot ache grew in his throat when he felt the man's teeth graze his skin once again. Damn, he couldn't remember ever feeling anything so erotic. He couldn't ever remember wanted to give in so much either. The overwhelming ache pitting in his stomach was battling with his need to feel the man's teeth on his throat again, and that was just weird.

 "So beautiful, my little pet."

Charlie's head snapped back. Pet? Drop dead gorgeous or not, he was no man's pet. "Hey, man, the kiss was great and all, but I can't—I don't even know your name."

"I am Marcus." The man's large hand encircled Charlie's throat, his thumb rubbing over the rapidly beating pulse. "But you can call me master."

Charlie frowned. Master? He started to argue until Marcus smiled and the light from the chandelier above flashed on his perfectly white teeth...fangs.

Oh shit.

"Uh, I don't think this is—"

"Do not think, kisa. Obey."

"Uh…"

Before Charlie could say more, Marcus's lips claimed his. Charlie tried to inhale, to protest, but there didn't seem to be any air left in his lungs. Marcus had sucked it all out with one simple touch of his lips.

Marcus took his mouth with a savage intensity. Their tongues brushed together, each of them fighting for dominance. Charlie finally groaned and leaned into the man's body, giving up control and letting Marcus lead.

"I have a room on the fifth floor," Charlie whispered, hoping he didn't sound too forward.

"Lead on, kisa."

Charlie started for the elevator. Marcus walked so closely behind him, he could feel the man's body heat. Charlie fumbled with the lock when they reached the hotel room he had rented for the night. The tongue licking along his neck was driving every thought out of his head except finding the closest flat surface.

Large strong hands squeezed his ass sending a shock of arousal spiraling through Charlie. "Open door, kisa."

Charlie shivered at the strength of Marcus's words and concentrated on opening the door to his hotel room. He was quickly pushed into the room. The door slammed closed before he could even turn around.

Strong arms wrapped around him from behind. Hot breath blew across the side of his face. Large hands started quickly stripping his clothes away. Charlie didn't know what to do. He just wanted to lean back into the hard body behind him and let the larger man take control and continue to touch him.

When Marcus's hand wrapped around his naked cock, Charlie's thoughts fragmented and he couldn't think of anything else except the heat filling his body at each little touch.

Charlie groaned and tilted his head back as Marcus nibbled on his throat. It felt so damn good. Charlie wasn't sure he'd ever felt so aroused in his entire life. His skin burned, ached for the feel of Marcus's hands.

"Marcus, I need—"

"I know what you need, kisa."

PLAY BY THE RULES by Frey Ortega

It was just supposed to be an interview.
It was just supposed to be one morning.
It was just supposed to be a memory...
How did it end up like this?

---

---

Sensitive and melodramatic Emmett Yang has had enough of the dating world. Enter Joe Kaminski, former quarterback--driven, determined, recently out of the closet--and knows exactly who he wants. That just happens to be Emmett.

Emmett is convinced that their chance meeting is just a one-time thing: a memory to be cherished. He doesn't think that Joe would ever really want to be with him. After all, he's...him, and Joe is Joe. He's nowhere near Joe's nebula, and there are rules and norms and mores to be followed about this sort of situation, none of which end with Joe and him together.

But can the former quarterback show Emmett that there are no rules in love?

 

 

 

Play by the Rules is a standalone gay romantic comedy in the first-person perspective. This book is steamy and includes full sex scenes, searing kisses, dramatic declarations of love and a protagonist's questionable knowledge of sexual health. It is a HEA, has no cliff-hangers or cheating, and is approximately 59,000 words.

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Play-Rules-Frey-Ortega-ebook/dp/B077D273JY/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/758801

About the Author:

Frey Ortega writes erotic romance, primarily of the gay variety. He lives in what a friend affectionately calls “the south-easternmost part of Spain,” which is an archipelago called the Philippines. He’s a graduate of the Royal, Pontifical, and Catholic University in Manila, with a Bachelors of Science degree in Psychology. Primarily, he works as a writer, a novelist, sometimes a video game journalist, and overall a homebody who spends way too much time on the internet.

He loves writing about people, especially people of all different shapes, sizes and backgrounds, falling in love. You might also find him playing video games from time to time! His favorite ones are MMORPGs, and role-playing games in general (and not just the ones in the bedroom.)

Visit his website at: http://freyortega.wordpress.com/

HAPPY THANKSGIVING

IT'S NEVER JUST ONE BOOK!

There seems to be this misconception that authors are rolling in dough, that they make money left and right, and that one little book put on a free download site won't hurt them. IT'S JUST ONE BOOK...yeah, one book downloaded by hundreds of people.

So, let's look at an example...better yet, let's look at the website I was just on that will show you exactly how much piracy costs authors and why so many of them are quitting and going to get jobs where their hard work is not stolen.

These numbers were taken directly from the site I was just on...the average audio book is $14.95. Now, I don't get that total amount because I have a publisher and only receive a percentage. But, here's the math...

Blaecleah Brothers 1 - downloaded 255 times = $3812.25

Scales and a Tail: Midnight Matings 2 - downloaded 157 times = $2347.15

Inferno: Pacific Cove 1 - downloaded 485 times = $7250.75

Hidden Desires: Tri-Omega Mates 3 - downloaded 306 times = $4574.70

Forbidden Desires: Tri-Omega Mates 2 - downloaded 409 times = $6114.55

Just a Taste of Me: Wolf Creek Pack, Book 2 - downloaded 440 times = $6578.00

Cowboy Keeper: Blaecleah Brothers, Book 2 - downloaded 274 times = $4096.30

Full Moon Mating: Wolf Creek Pack 1 - downloaded 203 times = $3034.85

There were a total of 2529 downloads on this one site. Just ONE website: That's 2529 downloads x $14.95 = $37,808.55

!!! $37,808.55 !!!

Someone wanted a comparison to what I legally sold...so here it is. This last quarter (3 months) I sold 112 audio books x $14.95 per audio book = profit of $1674.40 (before my publisher gets their cut).

Illegal Pirated audio books from this one website = $37,808.55
Legally sold books (for 3 months) before publisher's cut = $1674.40

My water got turned off earlier this month because I couldn't pay the bill. Do you think, just maybe, if the people who illegally downloaded these audio books for free had paid for them, I might have been able to pay the bill?

The people who illegally post audio books and ebooks are breaking the law. People who download them when they know they shouldn't are breaking the hearts of writers everywhere. We work just as hard as you do. We have families to care for. We need to put food on the table and pay our bills, just like you do. I don't steal from you. Why must you steal from me?

IT'S NEVER JUST ONE BOOK!!!

If you find a Siren-BookStrand e-book or audio book being sold or shared illegally, please let us know at legal@sirenbookstrand.com
 

RELEASE DAY: Earth Demon

EARTH DEMON

Elemental Demons 3

[Erotic Alternative Fantasy Paranormal Romance, M/M, HEA]

Detective Jackson Aniston was pulled into a world he never knew existed kicking and screaming. Demons were real, and one of them swore they were mates. No matter how handsome or intriguing the Djini warrior was, Jack wasn't gay. It could never happen, no matter how many times Clagh kissed him.

Clagh had spent hundreds of years doing his duty to Jinnistan and his people. When his fellow warriors found their mates, he began to hope he would be granted the same gift. His Demonas Amaté was a welcome surprise. Now, if he could just get the handsome detective to see that they belonged together.

The threat to Jinnistan is greater than ever. The Shayatin are coming out in greater numbers, attacking indiscriminately. It's up to Clagh and Jack to find a connection between the rogue demons and a lethal new drug on the streets of both worlds before time run out.

http://www.bookstrand.com/book/earth-demon

STORY EXCERPT

"So, these tornado things," Jack Aniston said as he watched the two men sitting across the room from him, especially the one that was twirling a mini tornado around in the palm of his hand. That shit was just freaky. "Once you were claimed by Storym you could create them?"

"Yep." Nick twirled his finger, and the mini tornado began to swirl faster.

Jack's forehead creased as he frowned. "How?"

"Got me." Nick shrugged. "It's just something I can do, just like Gabe here can create fireballs."

Jack's eyes widened when Gabe created a fireball in the palm of his hand. He ducked down, the fireball barely missing his head as it sailed past him. He immediately turned and glared at Gabe. Jack rolled his eyes when he heard Nick snicker. He was getting really tired of being a target.

"Better watch it, Gabe," Nick said, "Tehmper is still pretty pissed at you for the holes in the study wall. It took the carpenters two weeks to fix them all."

Gabe pouted. "Well, he shouldn't have told me I couldn't keep my sword then, should he?"

"What are you going to do with a sword?" Nick asked. "It's not like you can return to the surface to fight."

Gabe rolled his eyes. "As we have all recently discovered, fighting is not restricted to the surface world, and I refuse to be locked up in a padded cell."

He needed a padded cell because he was insane. Jack was pretty sure they all were.

"True. I wouldn't mind the training so much if Storym didn't have a panic attack every time I stubbed my toe. Do you know how embarrassing that is? I mean, seriously, we train with all of the other demons, and he totally freaks out if one of them goes a little tough on me. They're all afraid to train with me."

"Be lucky you get to train," Gabe said. "Tehmper and I are still discussing it."

"Talk to him about it while you're giving him a blow job," Nick said. "He'll never be able to say no with his dick in your mouth."

"Eeewww," Jack groaned. "TMI, guys."

Seriously.

"Oh please." Nick snickered. "I've seen you eyeing Clagh's package more than once, and if I'm not mistaken, someone had swollen lips when they left the study the other night."

Jack's face flushed, and he quickly glanced away. "I don't know what you're talking about." Oh god, he couldn't believe someone had seen him. So, he had let the demon kiss him. So, the fuck what?

It was just one kiss.

Maybe two.

"Right," Nick snorted.

"I don't do men," Jack insisted for what must have been the millionth time since arriving in Jinnistan. He was not gay!

"Yes, but do you do demons?"

Jack suddenly laughed even though he felt his face flush yet again. "Maybe."

It wasn't exactly that he did demons and not men. He was just curious. Clagh was damn nice to look at—well, if he was going to be looking, and Jack wasn't admitting to anything—but damn, all those bulging muscles? They were hot.

Nick tilted his head back and grinned over at Gabe. "That just leaves Brayan."

"Brayan?" Gabe looked confused. "What about him?"

"Well, we've all moved back into the clan compound, except for Brayan. With the three of us here, we need to move Brayan here as well. He's one of us."

Gabe shook his head. "You heard him as well as I did. He doesn't want to move out of the palace."

"No." Nick shook his head. "He's afraid of moving out of the palace. Big difference."

"Why do you think that is?"

"A hundred reasons, I'm sure, but the most important one is that he's ashamed of the scars on his body. He needs to be here with us where we can teach him that he has nothing to be ashamed of. Besides, Zayne is here, and what better way for Brayan to come back to the land of the living than with his demon by his side."

Jack glanced up from listening to the conversation between Nick and Gabe when he saw a figure pause in the doorway. Storym, Nick's demon, held a finger up to his lips when he saw Jack looking at him. Jack smirked and glanced away.

"Plotting again, Demonas Amaté?"

Jack snickered when Nick jumped at the sound of his boyfriend's voice. Well, boyfriend, partner, mate—something like that. Jack still hadn't quite figured that part out. The tornado in Nick's hand got away from him when he lost concentration and flew across the room to smash into the bookcase. Books crashed to the floor with a loud thud.

Nick just sat there for a moment and stared. Jack started laughing at the stunned look on Nick's face, and then Gabe joined in until their laughter filled the silence in the room.

Storym grinned, which was actually a good look on the demon. He was usually so serious. "You need more practice, Demonas Amaté."

"Practice?" Nick chuckled as he turned to look longingly at the demon lounging against the archway. "I like practice."

Jack rolled his eyes as Nick jumped up and practically ran out of the room with Storym quickly giving chase. He had absolutely no delusions about where the two men were off too. It seemed every time he turned around Nick and Storym or Gabe and Tehmper were running off to have sex.

Gods, he could practically smell it. The pheromones and scent of sex that hung in the air in almost every damn room in the huge clan compound was overwhelming. Jack had jacked off so many times he was afraid of getting carpal tunnel.

"Well," Gabe said as he stood, "that was fun. I'm going to go find Tehmper."

Jack blinked and watched Gabe hightail it out of the study. He groaned and dropped his head back against the couch once the room was empty, closing his eyes. This was ridiculous. He just needed to go home and find his little black book, and then everything would be fine.

He could think of several women he could call for a night of fun between the sheets, no strings attached. There was…uh…well, she had brown hair. Brown hair and long legs. Brown hair, long legs, and muscles that went—Jack's eyes snapped open as he realized just what long legged brunette he was thinking about.

He rubbed the heels of his hands over his eyeballs, trying to dislodge the image. He so did not need to be thinking about that damn demon when he was horny. He did not do men…or demons.

"You are well, Demonas Amaté?"

Jack gulped and glanced toward the doorway, trying to remind himself that he did not do men or demons, no matter how fucking gorgeous they were. "I'm good, Clagh."

"Would you care to join me?" Clagh asked with a hopeful look on his face. "I am on my way down to the city center and you have not had time to see much of my world. I would be honored to show it to you."

Jack's boredom overrode his common sense. That was the only explanation for him nodding his head. He knew he had no business being around Clagh, especially considering that Clagh thought Jack was his Demonas Amaté.

Oh yeah, there was that whole kissing thing, too.

FINISHED & SUBMITTED: The Stormy Glenn Convention

THE STORMY GLENN CONVENTION

coming November 29th

What happens when an author loses her muse?

After waiting ages for their stories to be turned into a series, paranormals from the worlds of Stormy Glenn's imagination accept invitations to attend The Stormy Glenn Convention. Between attending classes on interspecies mating and learning how to control their inner growl, they hope to convince the author to write the next story in their saga

When tragedy strikes and Stormy Glenn's muse goes missing, it's up to the characters she created to solve the mystery and bring back the voices in her head. Without her muse, their stories may never be told.

http://www.stormyglenn.com/thestormyglennconvention.htm

STORY EXCERPT

"I'm so excited."

Memphis chuckled as he glanced briefly at his mate. "I can tell. You're about to vibrate right out of your seat."

Eyes as blue as the ocean and rimmed with the darkest kohl blinked up at Memphis with a brilliance that still had the ability to steal his breath. "Don't you understand? Stormy Glenn is going to be there. We finally get to meet her, like in person."

"Honey, there are going to be a lot of people at this convention. She may not have time to meet with everyone." Memphis hated to burst his mate's bubble, but if someone didn't pull Harper's feet back down to the ground, the guy was going to float away.

"She'll want to meet Bristol," Harper said with more confidence than Memphis was feeling. "Stormy loves babies. She had six of her own, you know."

At the mere mention of his infant son, Memphis glanced in the rear view mirror so he could see the baby sleeping peacefully in the backseat of the car. Harper was his mate, his love, his reason for living. Bristol was his pride and joy, his reason for being a strong alpha.

The six month old infant was a chip off the furry old block. Most days, Memphis just sat and stared at his son with a sense of wonder. Having Harper in his life was a gift from the gods. Having Bristol was a freaking miracle, especially considering Harper had given birth to Bristol, and Harper was a man.

After being bitten ten years before and turned into a werewolf, Memphis thought he had experienced all that was paranormal in the world. After accidentally mating Harper and getting him pregnant, Memphis had learned that there was a lot in the world he had no clue about.

But he wasn't sorry, not one damn bit. He loved both Harper and Bristol more than his next breath. They had given meaning to his bleak existence as a werewolf. More than that, they had given him unconditional love and acceptance. They gave him a home.

Memphis smiled as he went back to watching out the front window of the car. He supposed he did have a little to thank Stormy Glenn for. Her muse had created a world where Memphis would go through hell, but discover his own little bit of heaven along the way.

"Oh snap, I broke a nail." Harper dug in his bag and pulled out a nail file. He started buffing one of his manicured fingernails.

Memphis shook his head as a chuckle rumbled through him. Now, if he could just get his little diva to sit still long enough for them to reach the remote resort where the first annual Stormy Glenn Convention was being held.

"Do you think they have a beauty salon at the resort?"

"They do, imp. I already checked."

Memphis smiled when Harper leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "And that's why I love you."

Memphis snorted. "That is not why you love me."

"True," Harper said as he slid his hand down to Memphis's zipper. "But I didn't want to say that in front of the baby. You know how good his hearing is."

He did. Memphis had been cock blocked by a crying baby more than once in the last six months. "You know, we could have left him with my parents and turned this into a little romantic vacation for two."

He had suggested it.

"The invitation said you, me, and Bristol."

Which was why his suggestion had been vetoed.

Memphis thought Harper was going to lose his mind when the invitation to the convention arrived in the mail. He had talked of nothing else for weeks. He was so excited he looked ready to burst.

Memphis had to admit he was intrigued as well. It wasn't every day you were invited to meet the author that created you and your world, and then told your story. There was a part of him that wanted to know how Ms. Glenn had conceived of the idea to write his tale. His wasn't the usual werewolf shifter story.

He also wanted to ask Ms. Glenn why she had left everything such a mystery. It would have been nice to know he wouldn't attack Harper once he mated him. That thought had terrified him and almost cost him the most precious thing in his life—his family.

He'd also like to know when his pack mates were going to get their story. Jackson and Truman were waiting for their story to be told, and Jackson was growing a bit growlier with each passing day. If words weren't written soon, Memphis feared what the other werewolf would do.

Truman wasn't much better.

If Harper was the queen of divas, then Truman was the princess. Together, the two flighty men kept Memphis and Jackson on their toes. Of course, Memphis wouldn't have it any other way and he doubted Jackson would either.

Still, it would be nice to find out what the future held for Jackson and Truman. The curiosity was killing him.

"Oh my god, would you look at that place." Pure awe laced Harper's voice when they rounded the bend and the exclusive resort came into view.

Memphis had to admit Harper was right in his astonishment. An exclusive and remote resort in the Pacific Northwest gave him visions of a rustic lodge or something. He never dreamed the place would be an actual castle.

Only Stormy Glenn could come up with something like this. She probably dreamed it up in her imagination and plopped it down in the middle of the Cascade Mountains. The sandy colored stone castle looked as if it had been there hundreds of years, which was impossible considering how long the United States had been an actual country.

Memphis pulled the car into the line of vehicle moving toward the entrance. One by one, they were being met by the valets and unloaded. Memphis was actually kind of surprised at how many people had shown up for the convention. He hadn't realized Stormy had that many characters running around in her imagination.

"Deep breath, Imp," Memphis said as he settled his hand on Harper's bouncing leg.

"I gotta pee."

Of course he did.

"There's only two cars ahead of us. We'll be there in a minute."

"Did you get a chance to look at the brochure that came with the invitation?" Harper asked as he went digging into his bag again. "I signed us up for several of the courses they are offering."

Memphis barely suppressed his groan. "What courses?"

"There's a really great one on interspecies mating that I think we should both attend and then there's one on how to control your inner growl." Harper gave him a pointed look. "That one is all for you."

Memphis cocked an eyebrow. "I thought you liked my inner growl."

Harper's eyes shot to the backseat before moving to Memphis. "I do, but sometimes you growl when we're out in public. If anyone heard you..."

Memphis snorted. "You mean if anyone knew how hard your dick gets when I growl..."

Harper grinned. "That too."

"Maybe you should attend the course with me."

Harper shook his head. "It's for growlers only."

Memphis rolled his eyes. Freaking fantastic.

SHAME ON ME

I've seen a lot of negativity lately, and it's saddening to see. The bickering, the backstabbing, the horrible words. The news stories that seem to never stop. The facebook posts. The twitter tweets. The blog posts. They are never ending.

I've even had a hand in it, not realizing until my husband said something to me that I had begun to become hateful with my own words. I was angry in the beginning. How dare he question my right to share my opinion with him. He's my husband, my best friend, and confidant. He has to listen.

And then I realized I wasn't sharing. I was bullying. No one might have been able to hear except my husband and myself, but the words had been spoken. I was doing the exact same thing I was so angry that someone else was doing.

Shame on me.

What right do I have to verbalize my disgust at what someone else does, when I do it in the same manner I was so disgusted with? I shouted and snarled, standing on my high horse as I complained about "How dare they..."

Shame on me.

My heart is heavy as I flicker past facebook posts that sadden me or anger me, pretending they don't exist if I don't read them. I'm safe in my bubble.

Shame on me.

I see the news stories of hatred and sorrow. I feel sadness for those who have felt loss and those who are angry, but then I change the channel to something else, something not so sad.

Shame on me.

I tell myself I've done my part. I've brought my children up right. I've taught them love and acceptance. I've written about love and acceptance in every book I've published. I've donated money and books. I've written letters. I've signed petitions. I've done what I could. I've done enough.

Shame on me.

Enough will never be enough until I take responsibility for myself. So, today, I do just that. I apologize to those I may have offended by speaking my mind and those I offended by keeping my thoughts to myself. I apologize for finding fault in your words, and using those same words to hold you responsible. I apologize for insisting my way is the right way, without being willing to listen to your way. I apologize for looking the other way.

I can't promise to be perfect. No one is. But I can promise to try. I will listen better. I will be willing to accept that my opinion is not the only one out there. I will accept that my opinion might not be right. I will not use harsh words. I will not use hateful words. I will not use words intended to hurt. I will use words that open good and honest dialogue of our differences and opposing opinions. And I will be understanding if we never find common ground.

I accept the things that I have the ability to change, and that's me and only me, and if I start with me, I can change the world.

AVAILABLE FOR PRE-ORDER: Papa Bear's Pup

PAPA BEAR'S PUP

Papa Bear was president of the Blue Angels, one of the deadliest biker clubs west of the Mississippi. He answered to no one, going where he wanted when he wanted. When being on the road so much takes its toll on him, Papa Bear heads to the woods to let his bear roam free. Finding a man beaten and covered in blood was never part of that plan but turning his back on the wounded man just wasn’t possible, especially since he suspects the little wolf might be his mate.

Bartholomew ‘Bug’ Matthews was on the run. Finding himself rescued by a burly tattooed biker was not where he expected to be but he wasn’t complaining. Papa Bear was the sexiest man Bug had ever seen. When the handsome man claims him, Bug couldn’t be happier. But his joy is short lived when Papa Bear disappears, leaving Bug alone and in more danger than ever.

When a vicious attack leaves Papa Bear with no memory of his mate, will he lose his one chance to find happiness or will Bug be able to protect himself and the secret he holds?

Note: This book was previously published at 20,000 words as part of Siren's anthology Ride a Cowboy. It has been extensively revised and expanded by an additional 16,000+ words. 

http://www.bookstrand.com/book/papa-bears-pup

FINISHED & SUBMITTED: Clint (Men of Might)

CLINT

Men of Might

coming November 2nd

Clint Might never dreamed when he rescued a kidnapped girl, that he would also find the man of his dreams, but pursuing the handsome detective was a really bad idea. When trouble brings them together, Clint has to decide whether to share his secret with the man or let him go for good.

Detective Bobby Allen was tired of fighting so hard to solve crimes when everything he does seems wrong. When he's questioned about a man who rescued him and then left him after a kiss that shook him to his toes, Bobby sees it as a chance to find out more about the mysterious man.

There's a mystery surrounding the Might brothers, one Bobby is desperate to solve. When Clint's secret is finally revealed, it brings a threat with it that could kill them before they even have a chance to admit their feelings. Only by working with together can they stay alive long enough to admit they are perfect for each other.

STORY EXCERPT

Detective Bobby Allen lifted his head and peered up at the light hanging from the ceiling. It was one of those industrial lights, long and metal with a tube shaped bulb thing. It was also extremely bright.

He tested the ropes keeping him tied to the chair. They were around his wrists and his legs. They were holding tight. He didn't feel any give in them. Every time he moved his wrists, the rough ropes grated against his skin.

Bobby sighed as he tilted his head back and stared up at the ceiling. "This is what you get for following your gut, you schmuck."

He had just walked into the restaurant for lunch, nothing more. He should have eaten and left. Easy peasy. But no, he had to see a man standing by the back kitchen door that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Instead of leaving it alone, he had gone out to his car and waited until dark when the restaurant had closed.

And then he did something truly stupid. He started snooping around.

Bobby knew he should have learned his lesson from the last time he had started snooping around. Not only had he been called off the case he'd been working, but he'd been transferred to another division and a letter of reprimand had been placed in his file.

He'd never get promoted.

He still believed he had been following a good lead when he went looking for Dominick Eli and Patrick O'Leary. Both men were wanted for questioning in the death of a young woman who had been the surrogate for O'Leary's son. Her body had been found floating in San Diego Bay a week after she gave birth to a healthy baby boy. Eli and O'Leary, plus the infant, had all disappeared.

Bobby had full belief that they were still out there somewhere, and he was still looking for them. He just couldn't follow normal channels to do it. If he got caught looking into the case again, he'd lose more than his job. He'd probably do time.

Of course, if he didn't figure a way out of here, doing time would be the least of his worries. He still wasn't sure who the guys were that had jumped him, but they had been crazy pissed. One of them had taken quite a bit of delight in slicing little lines down Bobby's arms. He looked as though he had tried to fight off a weed whacker.

He didn't look as if he had won the fight, but it sure explained why the light was so bright and his head was woozy. He was slowly bleeding out.

Bobby's head snapped up when he heard the door handle turn. He really hoped it wasn't the guys coming back to finish the job. He wasn't expecting the man who stepped inside the room and held a finger up to his lips.

He especially wasn't expecting the guy to be so damn good looking. The man had a rugged look about him, almost as if he could toss someone up against the wall and make their toes curl.

Yum.

If the man's massive height didn't do it for Bobby—and it did—the muscles rippling under his dark clothing would have. The short sandy brown hair and neatly trimmed beard didn't hurt either.

Bobby's jaw dropped when the man squatted down next to him and pulled out a knife before starting in on the ropes tying Bobby to the chair.

"My name is Clint," the guy said in a very low tone. "I'm here to get you out."

"Bobby."

The grin was surprising. "Yes, I know. The little girl told me."

Bobby's heart slammed in his chest. The second his hands were free, he grabbed at Clint's shoulder. "We have to get her. They're holding her for ransom."

"Already done." Clint started cutting at the ropes on Bobby's ankles. "I got her out before coming for you."

Bobby blew out a relieved breath. "Oh, thank god."

"Don't thank me yet," Clint said. "We still need to get out of here."

The ropes snapped and Bobby went to stand up only to find that his legs weren't as steady as he had hoped. They trembled so much, Bobby had to sit back down. He chuckled nervously. "Getting out of here might be harder than we thought."

"Come on, I'll help you."

Bobby tried not to lean too much into Clint when the man wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him to his feet, but he smelled so good. It wasn't aftershave. There was no chemical signature. It was something else, something wild. Bobby liked it. He knew he probably shouldn't. He was being rescued, not hooking up for a date.

"How do we get out of here?" he asked, trying to distract himself from that wonderful smell.

"I haven't figured that part out yet," Clint said. "But I'm working on it."

Bobby heard a crash from out in the hallway. "Work faster."

When the door started to open, Clint pushed him behind the door. Bobby grunted as he hit the wall. Clint was a lot stronger than he looked.

He heard a quiet gasp and then Clint was pulling one of Bobby's captor's into the room and lowering him to the floor.

"Shit! Did you kill him?" As much as these guys deserved a little payback, Bobby was still a cop and killing was still against the law.

"No."

Bobby frowned. "What are you looking for?"

Clint was going through the man's pockets.

"Anything that can tell us who these guys are working for."

Bobby's eyebrows rose. "You think there's someone higher up than these morons?"

Clint glanced up. "You said it. They're morons. There has to be someone higher up, pulling their strings."

Okay, that actually made sense.

"Are you a cop?" Bobby asked.

"No."

Bobby waited for more, but Clint didn't say anything else, which kind of pissed Bobby off. The one word responses were getting irritating.

Bobby's jaw dropped when the man handed him the gun he took off the kidnapper. He hadn't seen a weapon on Clint, so it didn't make sense to give up the only one he had.

Just who was this guy?