Monday, July 16, 2018

Fall Beside You - MM Romance - and a Giveaway #Romance #MM #Giveaway

Please welcome, Riley Parks. She's here to tell us about her MM romance Fall Beside You.

She's also hosting a great giveaway.

Read on for details...


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. $15 in Boroughs Bucks will be awarded to a randomly drawn commenter. Also, Boroughs Publishing Group can't wait to give you a Xmas gift in July. Join the party:

Gideon Valsecchi had done the impossible when he busted out of the grueling poverty and pre-ordained existence his life had been on the South Side of Chicago. His free ride at college is the stepping stone to a career with a professional soccer team. And when his dream comes true it's not what he expects—sacrifice shouldn't taste this bitter, especially when the love of his life is what he's missing and can't seem to hold on to.

Elijah Tucker wants to give Gideon Valsecchi the world on a silver platter. And he has the means to do it. But Eli is learning the truth of the maxim that the way you hold onto the thing you want most is to let it go. And while his heart breaks into a thousand pieces, he doesn't come apart even when the worst happens. Because, even as cliché as it sounds...true love does find a way.

Read an Excerpt:

“I love you,” Elijah whispered, rubbing the bar of soap over Gideon’s chest.

To Gideon, those words were a hot shower, full stomach, and a hat trick combined; a phrase that he couldn’t remember ever hearing in his life. His father certainly hadn’t shared the sentiment with him, and while he couldn’t be certain whether his mother had or not, he somehow doubted she was ever able to see beyond her drug-induced hazes to recognize he existed to begin with. “I love you” was foreign and formidable. It felt like the promise of forever, which was what Gideon wanted and feared. He didn’t want to give up his fight and fall into forever, where life was comfortable and he was complacent. He didn’t want to let himself go. “I probably do, too,” Gideon replied quietly, the statement he made when he felt too guilty to not muster a response.

“Yeah?” Elijah asked, his eyes bright with excitement.

It killed Gideon that his boyfriend was eager for any scrap of verbal affection. Endlessly, he admonished himself for not being able to lavish Elijah with more.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. Elijah never pushed or prodded. He was tirelessly patient and understanding. Though Gideon was grateful for that patience, he almost wished that Eli would put more pressure on him. He worked well under pressure; he thrived in situations where he had to perform. As much as he wanted to get there, he knew he needed several shoves in the right direction. Being moderately self-aware, Gideon knew if Elijah goaded him, it would lead to epic arguments and his signature obstinance, but then maybe there would be a breakthrough.

“I feel it,” Elijah murmured as several beads of water dripped from his eyelashes. He tucked his face into the crook of Gideon’s neck and kissed the slick skin. “That’s the important thing.” From his tone, it seemed the statement was more a reminder for himself than reassurance for Gideon.

“Do you feel it?” Eli asked. “I mean, I tell you, but do you feel that I love you? Do I show you?”

“Of course you do,” Gideon replied, taken aback by the question. “You’re so good to me, so perfect,” he promised, slotting his mouth onto Elijah’s.

About the Author:
Riley has always loved to write, believing that life has the possibility to be its most beautiful when it’s portrayed on the pages of a book. Feeling the need to create and liberate in the midst of the political landscape, Riley writes novels that focus on LGBTQ protagonists, wanting to honor a community that deserves better representation depicting lives, loves and triumphs in all facets of fiction.

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When she's good, she's very good...but when he's bad, she's better - Surrendering to the Beast - SALE #TinaDonahueBooks #SpecialPrice #ParanormalRomance #RomCom

Surrendering to the Beast, book two in my Taming the Beast series, is on sale beginning today at ALL retailers. The sale lasts for four weeks, so hurry!

Special Sale Price - $1.99


When she’s good, she’s very good – but when he’s bad, she’s better…

Book Two – Taming the Beast

It’s definitely not business as usual at From Crud to Stud, a makeover service for supernatural beings. Dare we say it? Receptionist Heather—a good fairy with a pure heart, mind and body—is on the fast track to exquisite corruption with Daemon, a satyr.

Sex has never been this good or adventurous. Half man, all beast, Daemon’s the ultimate bad boy, a follower of the god of wine and a good time. Before, during and after his makeover to look fully human, he intends to put some color into Heather’s pale cheeks.

She’s one conflicted but turned-on babe. Especially as Mistress Jin, a genie Daemon commands, agrees to show Heather how to cut loose. Under the mistress’s tutelage and Daemon’s shameless lust, Heather’s gonna find out what love and having fun is all about.

Not your typical bedtime story. May lead to indecent behavior, a taste for voyeurism, discipline and bondage, which will result in screaming orgasms. Proceed with caution.

Read the First Chapter FREE

Click HERE to Read

Website  –  FB  – FB Fanpage  – Twitter  –  Amazon Author Page – BookBub - Instagram

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Sunday, July 15, 2018

Beneath Deception - Unbreakable Series - Romantic Suspense - Erotica #RomanticSuspense #Erotica

Like a hot, Hot, HOT read? Then check out Beneath Deception.

Details follow...

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An Unbreakable Series
Romantic Suspense, Erotica
Date Published:  May 2018

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From The Award Winning Author of the Shattered Innocence Trilogy

Everyone has a story and for Xavier London, he preferred to keep his hidden. As ruthless as he was, he still had morals and those morals included betraying the one man who saved his life. He never thought that meeting one woman could change everything.

Tessa Sands never knew the truth about her life, nor did she ever question it. The only life she knew was the one she was taught, disciplined by the man who raised and groomed her to be only his. But, when another man entered her life, she slowly begins to discover that she had been deceived from the start.

Can she find true love or will his secrets get in the way?

Their love for each other will be tested. Only they can determine if love will win.


New town, same life. Even though leaving Manhattan was the hardest thing I had ever done, I knew it was best for me to leave and start over. So here I stand in my plush penthouse apartment, one year later. Taking a sip of my Scotch on the rocks, gazing out my floor-to-ceiling window, wondering what this magnificent town was going to bring me tomorrow. I always liked the nights in LA. It seemed to be the only time that the big city came to life. I loved the rush of a city at night. It was like escaping into a whole different world where every fantasy could be lived.

It was also the time when your worst nightmares could appear, and believe me, I had my share. As I downed my drink, I reflected that the night always brought back one nightmare in particular. I will never forget the look on my brother’s face when he realized I was dead. God, how I hated doing that to him, but it was the only way to break free.

Looking back at that day at Willow Crossing, it was amazing what one tiny pill could do. It could slow the heartbeat just enough to make it seem like you were dead. A little bit of animal blood as a prop could make it that much more real. With a little planning and a little money anything was possible. Luckily for me, I ran into the right man, and he needed a little help himself. The hardest part was finding a body. “Good old college academics and those donor lists,” I thought to myself with a chuckle. Who would have thought that a body being donated to science would be my savior? And with a little help from my needy coroner friend, I would soon be nonexistent. Free to start over.

Grabbing my suit jacket from the barstool, I casually put it on, making sure to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror above the expensive accent table. There was always something about a man in a suit that women seemed to go crazy for, and with the money I’ve made, I always made sure my closet was brimming with the best designer suits money could buy. Picking up the keys to my Jag from the table, I smoothed back my brown hair and adjusted the collar of my freshly-pressed shirt. Tonight was my night off and I really wanted to have some fun.

As I rode the elevator down to the parking garage, the memory of what I left in Manhattan came aboard. Thinking back, the only downside to my plan was hurting the one person I loved most. I guess for every action there is a reaction, and the reaction was a new life for me. Besides, he’ll survive. With the only woman he ever loved at his side and the men he served with watching his back, he’ll do just fine. As for me, I am alive and well, living in California. I’m no longer Josh Hyatt, born of a convict and raised by a mom and dad who couldn’t be honest to the son who brought them so much joy. That man died a long time ago, and a new man was born.

While I smiled to myself in my new reality, the elevator door opened, and a gorgeous brunette got on. Checking out the curves on this beauty, I needed to get me some of that. Inhaling the scent of her perfume, I casually leaned over and asked in a sultry low voice, “That scent you’re wearing is breathtaking. What is it, if you don’t mind me asking?”

The minute she turned and our eyes met, I knew this was going to be easy. There was a hunger inside those emerald eyes that couldn’t be mistaken. At least there was one thing I didn’t regret. Watch out, LA, Xavier London is in town.

About the Author

 photo Beneath Deception Author A.L. Long_zpsy4uiy2pg.jpg
Award winning Author of the Independent Press Award., NYC Big Book Award, and the 2018 National Indie Excellence Award.

My love for writing began several years ago after an early retirement from a demanding job that I loved, but also hated because it consumed so much of my time. Now, I am able to focus my time on what I love. Writing romance has been a life long dream and to actually say that I am a published author is beyond what I would have ever expected.

Even though some may say I have a little naughtiness in my books, I look at it as an added bonus for my readers. After all what is a romance book without a little spice.

When I am not writing, I enjoy spending time with friends either at home or out on the town. Mostly, I enjoy a relaxing night at home where I can enjoy a glass of wine in the company of a good book.

Contact Links

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Saturday, July 14, 2018

Apple of My Eye - Psychological Suspense #Fiction #PsychologicalSuspense

There's nothing I like better than a great psychological suspense tale.

If you feel the same, check out Apple of My Eye.

Details follow...

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Psychological Suspense
Date Published: 08-04-2018

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Laurie Brandon isn’t crazy. It’s a bout of panic that has her muttering indecipherable sounds and crying out like a mad woman, an attack brought on by her infant daughter’s sudden disappearance from the town’s annual Apple Festival. Not insanity. She needs help to save Emily. Someone has to see that, do something.

But her recent history of psychosis coupled with witness claims that Emily was never at the festival with Laurie isn’t helping her credibility. Neither is recent suspension from her job as a school teacher over stability concerns. Perhaps most damaging, though, is Laurie’s insistence that her ex-husband, Jake, had something to do with the child’s disappearance. Any sane person knows a dead man can’t run off with a baby.

The town sheriff believes Laurie is, at best, unreliable and possibly something much worse. But Laurie knows what she saw. She knows other things, too, details too hard to believe and even harder to accept. Now, she needs to convince someone – anyone – that Emily is in danger before the sheriff locks Laurie away permanently.


Chapter One


September 18, 2018

I’m not crazy. I know what I saw.

With a wave of dizziness, I hunch forward, my head hanging low, my palms pressing against a cool, hard surface. The evening sky blackens before my eyes and the chill in the air raises goosebumps on my arms despite my fleece lined sweatshirt. I can’t think straight, can barely breathe.

The silhouette in the darkness…that posture, poised to take action…

I didn’t need to see a face. I’d know that stance anywhere. But it isn’t possible.

I chew on my lip, try to gnaw the panic away. It has to be possible. I saw with my own eyes.

I can’t just stand here and wait, need to do something, find help. No one will believe me, though. It’s hard enough for me to believe me. It won’t help that everyone seems to think I’m out of my mind.

A tingling sensation shoots through my head like a strike of lightning and heat spreads through my body, starting in my head and washing through my chest. My heart beats so fast I fear it will burst. I remind myself to breathe. It’s just a panic attack. I’ve had plenty before and right now, it’s no wonder. Soon it will be over. I’ll be back to normal, get help, make someone believe me. Someone will help. They have to.

Breathe in, one, two, three. Out, one, two, three.

A fog settles in my head, sprinkling over my mind like chalk dust. I find myself gasping, my heart racing faster and harder. This symptom is new. I blink, trying to focus on the brick surface of the street but it’s a blur. The dust is growing thicker, an eraser materializing, brushing over my mind and randomly choosing which memories to wipe away.

Not my memory. I must remember.

My palms slide farther over the surface of…a table, counter…I’m not sure, but it’s rough like a sheet of unfinished wood. I lean hunched over it, struggling to breathe as I peer beneath my arm to look behind me.

Emily. My sweet baby girl.

She sits in her stroller, kicking her feet and cooing at the plush doll in her chubby fist. Cold flushes her cheeks pink, but the fleece bonnet tied beneath her chin keeps her head warm.

She’s here. She’s safe. I think. I’m not entirely sure. The fog is getting thicker, her image waving in and out as if it may not be real. I have no way of knowing. In this state, I can’t trust my eyes.

Maybe I can’t trust what I saw before either.

No. That was different. Not panic induced. Real.

A high-pitched shrill slices my skull, piercing my eardrums before fading to a crackle. Light flashes, then dozens of white stars appear.

“Laurie?” A voice slices through the static.

I force myself to stand up straight and blink. Lights swim before a backdrop of blackness and voices echo around me. Screaming. But in a happy way. The scent of grease lingers in the air, mingling with a sweet and spicy smell, like sugared cinnamon.

The lights twirl and I blink again. A Tilt-a-Whirl spins, masses of people passing in front of it. My eyes are drawn to one man, not because I know him but because he looks like a marionette, his arms outstretched, pulled by strings. My gaze follows the threads to four little dogs, Teacup Pomeranians, the kind Jake would never let me have.

“Ankle biters. Useless yippers.” I hear the rage in his voice, the unwarranted anger I’d become accustomed to. “Food for real dogs, that’s what they are.” That’s my translation, the clean version with every other word removed.

“Laurie, are you okay?” That voice again, soft and feminine, though drowning in background music.

I bring my vision in, notice a woman standing on the opposite side of a counter before me. I know her, Rochelle, a good friend of my mother’s. Two pies sit on the counter between us and she holds a wad of bills in her hand. A cool breeze brushes my skin, whisking the aroma of the pies toward me. Apple.

A memory washes over me, replacing Rochelle’s current image with one of her in my mother’s kitchen from many years ago. I see Rochelle pressing dough into pie tins, hear my mother counting with me as I measure sugar and sprinkle it over a huge bowl of sliced apples. “One…two…”

I’m five years old and wearing my favorite apron. Mom made it for me, complete with an embroidered apple on the chest. In front of me mom’s apple shaped clock ticks on the wall. Except for Christmas it’s my favorite time of year, being with mom in the kitchen and baking pies for the festival.

I blink, focus on Rochelle. Present day Rochelle. I remember. The Apple Festival. I’m in a booth selling pies to support the school. I brought Emily. My friend, Josie, came too. I look beside me, but Josie isn’t there. She must have stepped away.

Rochelle is still staring at me, her eyes wrinkled with concern. I force a smile and straighten my back, pulling myself off the countertop. “I’m fine,” I tell her. “Just getting a migraine.” I can’t tell her the truth. Everything I love is already in jeopardy; Emily, my job. Thanks to Jake, rumors of my supposed insanity spread over town as quickly as softened butter over a slice of bread.

I’m fine. I am. Postpartum psychosis, the doctor called it. My-wife’s-an-effing-nut-case, Jake called it.

Ex-wife. Almost. He forgets that part.

As I blink my thoughts away and hone in on Rochelle, I can’t help wondering what she thinks of me. Does she believe I have a migraine or is she waiting for the right moment to make an emergency call to the mental hospital?

“You scared me for a minute there,” Rochelle says, handing me the bills in her hand. “Keep the change. For the school.”

I force another smile and take the bills from her, my hands trembling with the aftereffects of my attack. I’m still trying to get my bearings, breathe in and out, slow the hammering of my heart.

Rochelle hoists her purse on her shoulder, a huge tan bag that causes my shoulder to ache just looking at it. “You sure you’re all right?”

I nod and force my mind to focus. My name is Laurie Brandon. I’m a second grade teacher. I’m in Jackson, Ohio at the Apple Festival. My hometown. I glance at the surface of the street where the booth sits, the brick street confirming my location. A few blocks away, lights illuminate the water tower hovering over the town, painted red to resemble an apple and embellished in a green leaf with a pipe protruding from the top as the stem.

I live on Mountain Valley Road. My parents are Gary and Paula Barreau. Emily is nine months old.

My heart rate slows and my body relaxes, the routine stabilizing me. I take a deep, long breath. I’m okay. Everything is fine. I’ll call the doctor in the morning. The medication she gave me has been working well. It’s just the extreme stress, my psychopath-almost-ex-husband worsening my psychosis, if that makes sense.

I remember. There’s more. I let out a gasp.

“I can tend the booth for you if you want to head home to lie down,” Rochelle offers.

I don’t hear Emily behind me. It shouldn’t surprise me. I can barely hear Rochelle over the crooning country band a block down the street. Still, I spin on my heels to check on my daughter.

She isn’t there.

My eyes shoot left to right so fast the plywood walls of the booth seem to flail. Emily… She was there just a moment ago in her stroller, wasn’t she? I saw her. I looked behind me, under my arm… I thought she was there.

My heart races again, my stomach turns, fog swirls in my brain. I can’t help questioning myself, replaying the day through my mind to make certain I brought Emily with me. I picture Josie in the booth and Emily right behind us in her stroller, just like I saw her earlier.

It was today, wasn’t it? My breathing grows faster, intensifying the dizziness. I’m not sure. The fog needs more time to clear. I force a deep breath. In, one, two, three. Out, one, two, three.

“Laurie?” Rochelle’s voice jumbles with my thoughts.

I just need a moment to get through this and then everything will make sense. Maybe I’m remembering another day. It wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened.

In, one, two, three. Out, one, two, three.

But I spot something on the street. I lean in, force myself to study it, make sure of what I see.

There is no mistaking; it’s Emily’s soft pink doll. If she wasn’t here, where did the doll come from?

The next scream I hear rolling over the crowd is my own.

About the Author

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Christine Barfknecht has a passion for weaving the darkest bits of the human psyche into page-turning fiction. She’s been crafting stories since before she printed her first word and credits her overactive imagination to a lifelong love of reading. She seeks out books that keep her hiding beneath the covers at night or turning pages long after her eyes begin to cross, and strives for those qualities in her own writing.

Christine lives in rural Wisconsin with her husband, children, and pets where she is also a virtual bookkeeping entrepreneur. In addition to reading and writing, she enjoys gardening, crafts, time with family, and traveling. APPLE OF MY EYE is her debut novel.

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Friday, July 13, 2018

Feeling the Characters #writing #characterization #muses #inspiration

This post first appeared at my other site Sweet n Sexy Divas, written by resident Diva S. Lira.

She hit on what it's like to be an author and I just had to share...


When talking to an author, you might hear how excited they are about their stories. They tell you about what went into the creating plot, the inspiration behind the story, and then the fun part; how they came up with their characters. In a lot of instances, this character might be made up of someone they know or even an extension of themselves or, it may be a someone they want to know or dream about.
A lot of mine are all the above. Their personalities are a mix of someone I know or want to know. If the character is somewhat of a jerk, it might’ve been a reaction to ex boyfriends. *smirks* Or some random jackass who me or my friends or family have come in contact with. In any event, those personalities and/or traits are made up into one terrific fictional person.
The character.
He or she is the star of your book; the one that everyone can either identify with or hate. I try to come up with a variety of characters when I write my books so it will be exciting for me as well as the reader. I think I’ve successfully done this, but I can say I have a special place in my heart for the most challenging and/or difficult. Yes, I have an affinity for assholes.
Not in my real life, though, just in the books I read or write.
Since I write mostly romance, I like the guys that come off a little macho. Maybe they’re hotheads, narcissistic, and/or cocky. They may have quirky habits that put other people off such as swearing a lot or they’re quick to speak their minds, no matter how much it might offend the other person. I rarely write characters who are completely nice, but when I do, I find it especially challenging. I don’t know why because I consider myself a sweet person. Still, writing the co-called “angel” is hard for me. I have written some nice guys, but even they have a little badness in them. *laughs*  My fave bad boys are Nicolai from The Wretched and if you can call him “bad”, Kajika from the N’awlins Exotica series. As far as the somewhat sweeties are Ryland from my twins series, Mon Frere and Jayden from Something About Jayden.
Then there are my females. When I write a het or now, with my f/f, I want to make her feminine and kick ass. I’m not sure I could write a woman who is waiting to be whisked away by her potential mate. The damsel in distress trope isn’t something I want to write. I’d rather do, she’ll kick and scream before she lets her man or woman take her. She’ll fight for her independence and bring up every excuse not to be with the person who is hot on her heels. She’s fierce and sometimes a little crazy. My fave characters I’ve written are Miranda Ashley from On the Run and Kenina Porter from the N’awlins Exotica series and they fit my descriptions to a tee.
There’s a lot that goes into putting together a character and until recently, I hadn’t realized all the steps, but even now, I’ll still let the character speak to me and most of the time, they go against the grain of what I wanted for them. That’s the beauty of writing a fictional person though. Coming up with a rough sketch and then allowing that person to come into his or her own. When I do this, it’s exciting to follow the character and what they do, and I seriously hope the reader enjoys it too.
So in closing, putting together the characters are just as enjoyable as the plot. In some cases I let both roam free until I feel it’s time to reel them in. And as you know, you can’t ask an author who their favorite character is. It’s like picking their favorite child. *laughs* However, I guess if someone demanded me to, I’d say Kenina and Ryland rank tops for me.
Shhh! Don’t tell the others!
* * * *

Romance and erotica author Sharita Lira believes that love conquers all. Writing sexy stories of people who might be complete opposites, but somehow make a lasting connection that often leads to a happily ever after.
Happily married and mother of two, Sharita never allows complex plots to deter her from writing the story. Inspired by heavy music, attractive people she’s seen in person and on the internet, Sharita always has a tale on her brain.
In addition to being a computer geek and a metalhead, Sharita loves live music, reading, and spending time with family and friends. She’s also a founding member and contributor to the heavy metal ezine FourteenG.
For more information, please visit and if you’re a fan who would like exclusive updates on her writings and chances to win prizes, sign up for the newsletter!

To support my writing, please visit my KoFi page
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Thursday, July 12, 2018

Laura's Legacy - PNR - Shifters - and a Giveaway #PNR #Shifters #Giveaway

Want a great PNR tale and a giveaway? Check out Laura's Legacy.

Details follow...


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. A randomly drawn commenter via Rafflecopter will win $15 in Boroughs Bucks. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Boroughs Publishing Group can't wait to give you a Xmas gift in July. Join the party:


While Laura was attending the annual omega celebration, a ruthless ogre attack destroyed her village and wiped out her family. Heartbroken, lonely, and adrift, she was forced to rely on the kindness of the Black Ridge wolf pack alpha for a home. And so were many others, including members of the small Newton pack, and their handsome, strong alpha, Dedric. One brief interlude was all it took for Laura to know she would choose him as her mate.

Alpha Dedric Newton couldn’t believe his good fortune. Beautiful and powerful, Laura was the omega of his dreams. Worried he had so little to offer, he insists she spend time with his small pack as they rebuild their village and homes. Laura and Dedric’s time in Newton strengthens their bond while evil works to undo all of Laura’s gifts, especially her legacy. After finding the greatest love an alpha could dream of, Dedric will do anything and everything to keep Laura safe from harm.

Read an Excerpt

Dedric stormed back to his temporary house where his beta, his parents and the head of the women’s auxiliary waited in grim silence. Mary and Wilhelm, Samson and Rayanne followed him into his office. He sat behind his desk trying to calm the rage burning inside of him before speaking to the group squeezed into the room, all of them wearing the same pissed-off expression. It wouldn’t do to start ripping heads off to find out who was responsible for this insult, but Dedric was so angry he now understood what people meant when they said their blood boiled.

“Answers,” Dedric ordered. “I want answers as to why what should have been a happy and joyous occasion could have turned into chaos and insult. If we weren’t lucky enough to have Laura’s abilities this would have turned out to be a disaster.”

“Son, I can’t think of one person in our pack who would do something like this,” his mother said. “Everyone was overjoyed when they found out you had attracted the attention of an omega,” she assured him as she poured him a cup of coffee from the machine on the sideboard.

“Well somebody did,” Wilhelm groused. “It was plain to see the leg of the table had been cut. It wasn’t a failure due to the weight of the cake and it wasn’t because the table was old, because they’re new. Someone is responsible.” Wilhelm stared out the window. “I think you need to say something to the pack.”

“I will in the morning,” Dedric agreed.

“Oh, I think it’s going to have to be a bit sooner than that,” Samson said as he looked out the window and into the yard in front of the house.

Dedric got up, rounded his desk and looked through the window to find what looked like the whole pack standing in front of his house. Looks like I wasn’t the only one worried about how this affected Laura. “Right. I’ll go speak with them.”

About the Author:
Lilli Carlisle, lives outside Toronto, Canada. She’s a member of the Romance Writers of America and its chapter, Toronto Romance Writers. Lilli is a mother of two wonderful girls, wife to an amazing man, and servant to the pets in her life. Lilli writes both contemporary and paranormal romance and believes love should be celebrated and shared. After all, everybody needs a little romance, excitement, intrigue and passion in their lives.


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