Spotlight: Rush

Rush

Penelope Rivers

Genre: Gay Werewolf, M/M PNR

Publisher: ARe Books

Date of Publication:  July 1, 2015

ISBN: 9781943576142

Word Count: 50,000

Cover Artist: Erin Dameron Hill

Book Description:

Out of desperation and danger comes love. What a rush!

Strapped for cash, Dante Kinnaird agrees to sell a sample of his werewolf DNA to the owner of a security company intent on breeding fierce and fearsome dogs. Dr. Crios Mantzaris Karras III, a brilliant but arrogant scientist, creates the serum and gets on Dante’s last nerve. Dante can’t wait to cash his check and get away from this man.  

Crios’s ego takes more than a beating when his hybrid were-dogs become uncontrollable and terrorize the countryside. Dante knows he must make things right, and puts aside his feelings for Crios as they team up to stop these bloodthirsty monsters.

In the heat of battle, he never expected those feelings to change.

Excerpt:

Two hours later, Dante sat strapped in the chair as Crios ran his fingers over his bare arm, seeking out a vein so he could draw blood. The other man didn't hesitate before thrusting the needle straight into his inner elbow. Dante barely felt the needle dipping into his skin. To him, being prodded was nothing. 

Crios examined the dark crimson liquid that filled the syringe, his eyes gleaming. "Interesting."

"What's interesting?" Blood was blood, after all. 

Crios sighed as if dealing with the questions of the common man was oh-so-exhausting. "Werewolf blood looks the same as human blood."

A grin covered his face before he could stop it. "Did you think that werewolves bleed blue or something?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Blue blood? Whoever heard of such a thing? This is reality, not a comic book." Miffed, Crios shook his head. "I just wasn't sure what to expect. I've never worked with werewolves before, so for all I knew your blood could have had a different consistency and color than a human's."

"I take that to mean you haven't been gene mashing werewolves and animals for long?"

Crios picked up the vial of blood and transplanted it into a metal vat beside him. "No, I haven't. I didn't even know that werewolves existed until Norm shared the truth with me. And even then, I was skeptical until I did the research myself."

"I wonder how Norman discovered werewolves." He reminded himself to ask Norman when he returned from the restroom. Werewolves were a pretty well-kept secret, and for a good reason. If the human population discovered their existence, then their kind would never be left alone. 

Pulling a white cotton ball from his pocket, Crios rolled it between his thin fingers. "Norm told me that he saw a werewolf transform when he was walking home from a bar. After that, he couldn't get thoughts of werewolves out of his mind. He dug around and found out all about them."

Well, it looked like Dante hadn't needed to wait until Norman returned from the restroom to question the man after all. "The werewolf who was seen should have been more careful. Most of my kind tries not to transform in the presence of humans. It'll put us in danger."

"Accidents happen, I guess." Crios shrugged. "Open."

"What?"

"Open your mouth." Crios rolled his eyes. "I have to do a swab."

"Oh." He blinked in surprise before opening his mouth wide. Maybe he was being ridiculous, but he could only pray that his breath didn't stink.

The man ran the cotton swab along his cheek and then opened a plastic bag and put it inside. As Crios laid the bag next to the blood sample, Dante couldn't help but feel mounting curiosity in regards to this brilliant but socially inept person.

"Have you always liked science?" He noted how natural Crios appeared floating around in his lab coat. 

"Science isn't something I like as much as it is something that is in my blood." Crios pushed the glasses further up his nose. "I come from a family of scientists. My mother and grandfather were brilliant chemists. I, however, chose to specialize in a few different scientific fields. I figured that I'm smart enough to work in several different scientific areas at once."

I love how he had to add a little self-plug in there…"You just made it sound as though you don't like science."

"Like I said, science runs in my blood. That's all there is to it. It's not a matter of me liking or disliking it."

"But what's the point spending your life doing something you hate?" He'd rather spend his life trying his best at something he enjoyed even if he was crappy at it. "It sounds like you're setting yourself up for years of pain and misery. I don't know why you'd do that."

"I don't hate science. I just don't particularly like it." Crios stopped talking as his face became the color of a freshly plucked plum. "Why on earth am I talking to you about this? I shouldn't have to defend my life choices to a perfect stranger."

"Sorry."

Crios huffed and pulled another cotton ball from his pocket. "This is why I hate dealing with people. It's always so exhausting."

Other people were exhausting? Dante had once had to run fifty miles in one go, and that had tired him out less than this conversation. "Sorry I'm such a trial."

In response to his jab, Crios said nothing. Zilch. Nada. The guy probably hadn't even noticed his tone. 

"Do you have any family?" He wanted to know how Crios had ended up so much like, well, Crios.

"They're all dead." Not even a smidgeon of emotion crept into Crios's crisp voice. Dante had heard someone become more emotional about a deceased goldfish. 

Still Dante's stomach twisted. "I'm sorry." 

"Don't be. My parents were non-existent in my life even when they were alive." Once again, Crios delivered the earth shattering information with emotional detachment. It was strange that the man blew up over the eggs on his sandwiches, but spoke without remorse about his own dead family. 

"Still, you have to miss them." It would be impossible for him not to. 

"No, I really don't." 

The man had to miss them a little. "Not at all? Oh, come on." 

Annoyance flickered in Crios's steely eyes. "No, I don't. Not at all. Not even in the slightest bit."

The words made Dante fall silent. 

"Open," Crios snapped, prodding his lips with a cotton ball. 

At once, he opened his mouth.

About the Author: 

Penelope Rivers is an erotic novelist of M/M romance novels and short stories. A hopeless dreamer, she spends her day thinking about all things fantasy, romantic and not. It is her view that when you start choking on the occasionally dry bread of life, you need something sinfully delicious to chase it down with. Currently, she lives in Utah with an abnormal amount of pets.

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100009714120727

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4998872.Penelope_Rivers

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Guest Blog: The End? Really? by Marcia Colette

Stricken

Alexa York 

Book 2

Marcia Colette

Genre: Urban Fantasy

Publisher: Purple Sword Publications

Date of Publication: 5/6/2015

ISBN: 

ASIN: 

Number of pages: 167

Word Count: 66,020

Cover Artist: Traci Markou

Book Description:

Personal tragedy convinces half-werewolf Alexa York to get away to the town of McCormick, Pennsylvania where she's charged with protecting Dr. Aiden Joss, physician to the supernatural community. Not only does she need the money, she needs the distraction. Unfortunately, she gets it in spades when Joss's personal issues and a myriad of dangerously sick patients make her new job nearly impossible. 

A mysterious disease is running its way through the New York Order of the Amazons and leaving bodies in its wake. The same warrior who had chosen her clan over Joss has asked for him help. Even though the disease is real, Alexa has reason to believe his ex's sincerity is not.

Given the other numerous problems she has to deal with that are outside of her job description, Dr. Joss might be the biggest threat to his own safety. But, protecting him comes first. That’s difficult to do when his efforts to find an antidote put everyone in his remote clinic in danger, including Alexa. 

Available at Purple Sword

Excerpt: Chapter One

Present day. 

I stood on the porch of Dr. Aiden Joss’s luxurious home irate as hell. Someone was supposed to meet me at the airport in Philadelphia. I ended up having to take a cab because all of the rentals were booked from the only airport about twenty-five miles from the small town of McCormick, Pennsylvania. The taxi driver must have mistaken me for an oil baron with the fare he charged. He ended up having to leave me at the front gate because the intercom was busted. Thankfully, being a human hybrid had its advantages. After tossing my duffle over the ten-foot wall, I followed by leaping over. Some security. 

The downpour turned my black, wavy hair into thick tresses snaking down my neck and upper back. Sadly, my duffle bag was just as pitiful as I looked, since it wasn’t waterproof. I’d exercised more care when picking out my purse and laptop bag. 

The front door opened. A tall, bulky man who looked like he missed his calling as an NFL linebacker stood against the golden glow of the interior. His face was criminal-hard, though something in his dark eyes said otherwise. He wore a white shirt and jeans with a brace around his left knee. He blinked. 

“Oh, boy.” He hurried to unlock the storm door and let me inside. “You must be Ms. Alexa York.” 

I struggled getting past him with my wet duffle, carry-on and my drenched clothes clinging to my cold body. “I am. I take it the phones don’t work around here.” 

He took my stuff and set it aside. “The power has been flickering all night. They just got the lights back on about three minutes ago. The phone is Internet, so when the power goes out, everything goes out.” 

I unzipped my sodden jacket. “I get it. No phone, no phone calls. Which is why I was stuck at the airport.” 

He sighed. “Again, my apologies, ma’am. With so much going on, I only had a chance to worry about one thing at a time.” 

I glanced at him before answering. So much going on? The house was quiet and not a soul in sight. What could’ve possibly had him too busy to pick me up when he knew I was coming? Heck, I was here to be his replacement while he was on the mend. If he didn’t want me here, forgetting me at the airport or not sending a car to pick me up worked in his favor. 

He offered his hand to me. “My name’s Sammy. I’m Dr. Joss’s med tech and assistant.” 

“Med tech?” I looked him up and down. “But I thought you were his—” 

He chuckled. “I’m really his assistant. I’m only his bodyguard when I have to be. And given the kind of world that lies beyond those gates, I find myself playing the latter more often.” 

I closed my eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry if I sounded a little crotchety, but—” 

Sammy waved a large hand. “No need to apologize. I’d be a lot more than pissed had I been in your shoes. Speaking of which, let me show you to your room so you can get some dry clothes on.” 

Snorting, I glanced at the puddle forming around my duffle. “Dry clothes, huh. That would be nice.” 

“No worries, Ms. York. I’ll find you something.” 

“It’s Alexa, by the way.” Those close to me called me Lex. We weren’t there yet. 

“Alexa, then.” 

My room was upstairs on the second floor along with five other bedrooms. Every piece of furniture was stained pine and sitting against light blue walls. Thankfully, I had my own private bathroom. When I looked out the bathroom window, light was coming from the woods somewhere behind the trees where it shouldn’t be. 

I sure hoped Dane had told me everything I needed to know about this so-called mission. I would hate to learn something the hard—painful—way. Though that would never be his intention, I also knew his idea of what information was important to know was different from mine. 

Had it not been for Wesley Dane, a full-blooded werewolf friend of my family, I wouldn’t be here to play bodyguard for one of his closest friends. It wasn’t the thousand dollars a day, tax-free money for my services that had brought me here. I needed the distraction more than anything. 

“So, how much do you know about me?” After snuggling into a thick, warm robe I found hanging on a hook, I dried off my hair with a towel and opened the bathroom door. 

Sammy was still there, though keeping his distance by waiting in the hall. I thought it was weird, but whatever, seeing as this was more his house than mine. “Enough,” he replied. “You’re half-werewolf, which is extremely rare. You’re also married, which means either your husband, who’s a full-blood, or Dane is going to tear Dr. Joss apart if anything bad happens to you. Although, that sort of defeats the purpose of you being the doctor’s bodyguard.” He half-smiled. 

“Are you expecting me to be torn apart?” 

“No.” He chuckled. “But I expect you’ll be put through the wringer.” 

Guest Blog:

The End? Really?

Many authors look forward to typing those words "The End" at the end of their manuscript. The story is over, all loose ends (for the most part) are resolved, and the hero and/or heroine are happy for now. I've always imagined my favorite authors sitting back with a huge smile on their faces and thankful that Fate is on their side, as they've met their ferocious deadline. 

The end has never been "The End" for me. That doesn't mean I don't so things like celebrate my accomplishments in some minor way. I always treat myself to a few days of rest before I start that next story or I have that dessert I normally don't eat. After slaving over a book that has most likely taken me from an emotional high to an emotional low and back to that high again, I deserve something to regain my sanity, right?

For me, even though "The End" has come, it doesn't mean I stop thinking about a story. Thousands of questions bombard me. Do I want a sequel? Do I want to make this a series? Do I want to leave it at one book and explore a spin-off world? Stricken, though you might think it’s a first book, is actually a second book in my Alexa York world. Stripped was published by a different publisher back in 2009 (I think), so this second book is a long-time in the making. That wasn't planned—I swear. And if you're really curious, there was another book that featured Alexa York that was released back in 2006, which was my very first contracted book. That one is in the process of being rewritten for submission to my publisher for a re-release (fingers crossed my editor likes it). Let's face it. I'm Alexa York's biggest fan girl. If all goes well, there will be a fourth book, too. In fact, I'm in the process of writing a story for Alexa's sister Genevieve that will also be an urban fantasy with romantic elements. And thanks to Stricken, I'm toying with the idea of a spin-off series. 

You see? There's really no true "The End", as I suspect is true with other writers, too. Ideas are always churning and molding in our brains until we finally have a chance to put fingers to the keyboard. Series like Women of the Otherworld by Kelley Armstrong took thirteen books. Charlaine Harris's Sookie Stackhouse series is another one. Kim Harrison is still forging ahead with The Hollows, thank goodness, though I'm a few books behind and desperately need to catch up. How long has Harry Dresden been around? Woohoo!

Sure, there comes a time when an author has to put "The End" on a series. But as long as readers keep reading, it'll be a while before we authors truly stamp "The End" on our books. As a reader, too, I’m extremely grateful for that. 

Thanks for indulging me!

About the Author:

Author Marcia Colette didn’t discover her love for reading until her late teens when she started reading John Saul and progressed to works by Bentley Little, Stephen King and Laurell K. Hamilton. Her reading tastes convinced her to write paranormals where curses cause people to shift into spiders, psychotic and telekinetic mothers are locked away in attics, and murderous doppelgangers are on a rampage. Let's not forget about the hunky werecheetah coalitions who live throughout North Carolina. As long as she can make it believable, that's all that matters.

Born and raised in upstate New York, Marcia now lives in North Carolina with her mom and beautiful daughter. They’re not raising zombies in the backyard. There aren’t any hellhounds living in the den, only a rabbit and a cockatiel. So where she gets her ideas is as much a mystery to her as anyone else.

The best place to find her--when she's not stirring up trouble--is on her blog where she loves connecting with readers.

www.marciacolette.com

http://marciacolette.wordpress.com/

http://twitter.com/MarciaColette

https://www.facebook.com/marciacolette

http://www.goodreads.com/marcia_colette

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Blog Tour: Clearer in the Night

Clearer in the Night
By: Rebecca Croteau

Cait’s used to being an outsider. The odd girl out, the one with the alcoholic mother. The one whose sister and father died. The one who might just have telepathy. These things she could manage, could hide just enough to get by. Now a werewolf’s bite forced her outside the whole human race.

Two men -- the one night hook-up who shows up at her hospital bed, and the rescuer worker who may be following her -- seem to know more about her condition than she doe … and about this strange world of magic she’s pulled into. As Cait plunges into this darker reality, painful secrets of her past are churned up and she’s forced to confront her new identity. Torn between the between the sweet and too-hot-to-be-true Eli and possessive, darkly sensual Wes, Cait must decide whom to trust and which side to choose... before it’s too late.

Buy Links:

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Link to Follow Tour: http://www.penandinkbooktours.com/tour/clearer-in-the-night-rebecca-croteau/

Excerpt 

“You shouldn’t have gone. You should have stayed where I could see you.” She was twisting the hem of her cardigan in her hands. The buttons hadn’t been done up right. Her eyes were wide, staring.

“Mom,” I said, approaching her like I approached a kid crying at drop-off time—hands out, and with a soft smile. “I’m sorry you were scared, but I just went for a run, and then I went into town to check in with Sarah, and make sure everything was okay.”

“You could have disappeared. Just like them. Vanished, no trace, and everyone thinking you’re dead.”

I stared at her for a long minute, then reached out a hand and put it on her arm. She jerked it away, and the pictures rattled on the wall again. “Mom. Dad and Sophie are dead. They died when Dad drove his car into the lake.”

She gave me a look of pure and total disgust. “Their bodies were never found.”

“Because our lake is silty and impossible to search. When you swim, you can’t even see your feet at the end of your legs. The coroner said that there was no sign that anyone got out of that car alive, Mom. They died. A long time ago.” I put my hands on her, and she shrugged them off, harder.

“That’s because someone stole them from us, Caitlyn. I thought you knew that. No wonder you’ve hated me all this time. You thought I drove them away, but they were stolen. Stolen from us.” She was smiling now, earnest and lit up from the inside. My stomach, however, was in knots.

Author Bio

Rebecca, Ree to her friends, lives with her family in the wilds of New England. She is owned by two cats, and enjoys discovering the various ways that one can enjoy string. She is fueled by coffee, and strong autumn breezes.

Author Links

Website: http://www.rebeccacroteau.com/

Tumblr: http://reecroteau.tumblr.com/

Pinterest: ReeCroteau

Google+: ReeCroteau

Twitter: @ReeCroteau

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PROMO Blitz: Ariel

Paranormal

Date Published: February 16, 2015

Despite her sharp scientific mind and her degree in bio-molecular genetics, Dr. Ariel Jones hasn’t figured out how her life changed so much in a single day. Before she can blink and ask about what is going on, she’s being shot with a billion nanos and some very potent wolf blood.

Now she can suddenly turn into a giant white wolf with the bloodlust of a starving animal. And she’s an alpha wolf…or so she is told by the even larger, very male, black wolf who was used to create her. Hallucination? She wishes. Whether human or wolf, Reed talks in her head and tells her how to handle things…or rather how to kill them…starting with the men who hold them all captive. Too bad he can’t tell her how to put her life back like it was.

Admittedly, there are perks to being a werewolf, such as meeting sexy werewolf guys like Matthew Gray Wolf. It’s not like the science labs were overrun with sexy men in white coats. She also doesn’t mind learning about a side of herself she never knew existed. It's great changing into a real wolf whenever she wants, but being a living experiment wasn’t part of the scientific career she’d planned for herself. Neither was falling for the local werewolf alpha, but what else is a newbie werewolf caught in her burning time going to do?

EXCERPT

Ariel shook with cold as she came up out of a deep, drugged sleep. Naked and shivering, she determined that she was lying on a small cot.

As she struggled to open her eyes, she could just barely make out the forms of Dr. Crane and his white-coated asswipe of an assistant. They were staring into the cages where they’d stashed the other two women who had been captured alongside her. There was a bunch of growling and hissing which kept getting louder as the men talked.

Dr. Crane looked extremely pleased with whatever was happening. The knowledge pissed her off, but her dark thoughts of doing vicious and hideously cruel things to both men surprised her.

Ariel lifted a pale hand in front of her face, which blurred out of focus, but finally came back in. So far, nothing overly unusual had happened to her body, unless you counted the sick headache she had at the moment. She felt strange though—very strange. Her stomach growled with fierce hunger and there was a steady fire burning between her legs. Those two white-coated bastards had better not have touched her. If they did, she was cutting off their man parts and throwing them in the recycler. Later, when she was more alert, she promised herself she would check her body closer.

A loud clanging against the bars of her cage had her covering her ears. Sound—all sound—hurt terribly and increased her headache. A percussion band played in her head as she fought the pain.

“I’m afraid your doctoral thesis is now a complete failure, Dr. Jones. Apparently, the metamorphosis strand is a deterrent to transpecies mutation as well as being something to shorten a person’s life. Now I have to decide what to do about you. We can’t just turn you loose in society and have you telling everyone what we’re up to here. You were certainly a waste of a couple billion very expensive nanos we can’t get back. Sadly, you’ve become the only failure case, rather than the pinnacle of our success.”

It took her a lot of effort, but Ariel finally managed to manipulate her hand enough to get her middle finger to stand up alone. Crane’s laugh at her silent rebellion grated on every nerve she had, not to mention how much his voice hurt her ears.

“When I get out of here, I may kill you just to watch you hurt,” Ariel croaked, her mouth dry as dust.

Crane laughed harder and walked away. At his departure, the growling and hissing in the cages next to her ceased. When the room was totally silent once more, she drifted back into a peaceful oblivion where she could pretend nothing had happened.

***

Dr. Jones—Ariel. Wake now, but do not shift. Wake in human form. Think of yourself as human and you will be one.

Ariel rolled to her side on the canvas cot and tried to pull the scratchy cover she’d found over her naked body. Even with her knees scrunched up, it was far too short. She covered her eyes with a hand as she fought off the nightmares which were now continuously talking to her. There must have been hallucinogens in what they gave her.

I am not a hallucination. I am Reed—a three hundred year old alpha. You are a two day old version. It is very wise of your wolf to hide itself from those who seek to harm you.

Ariel groaned and rolled to the other side. “Head hurts. Stop talking to me.”

I know you are in pain, but you must fight off the drugs now. Crane returns soon. He is planning to move you to another facility and dissect your body to find out why conversion failed with you. They have identified another experiment victim and she arrives tomorrow. You must rescue the others and kill Crane before he can turn more.

“Kill Crane? Sure. I’d love to do that,” she repeated, covering her eyes with her hands.

Yes. I regret the extremeness of the step, but Roger Crane must not be allowed to continue his work. You will have to destroy the lab as well. Accidents happen all the time in Alaska. I doubt Feldspar Research will fund any other scientist if we completely destroy the proof of Crane’s success.

“O—K.” she said groggily, working her body into an upright position. Sitting up hurt as much as anything else did. “And I thought my divorce was traumatic. Either my nightmares are getting bossy or I’m hearing real voices in my head.”

Putting a hand up to her head, she rubbed the base of her skull where they had shot something into her brain stem.

“Hey nightmare, since we’re on a speaking basis, do you know what the hell Crazy Crane shot me with in the back of my head?”

My blood—I believe. He took it at the pinnacle of my wolf’s lunar cycle. Since I was already in my wolf form when he caught me, hitting the lunar pinnacle was evidently strong enough to cause a species turning. I had heard the legends, but human turnings have not been done since the middle ages. Packs prefer to propagate organically. Unfortunately, Crane found a way to take the choice from me.

Ariel laughed. Her intuition spoke to her all the time, but it usually didn’t announce she was a wolf in human form. “Hey Nightmare, are we going to keep talking in my head?”

Yes. I am your alpha. You are an alpha in training. So yes—we will talk in your head—until we can do so differently. I cannot shift from my wolf until the bullets and collar are removed from me. Silver has a restraining effect.

“Being shot with your blood doesn’t make you my dad or anything, does it?” Ariel could have swore her nightmare wolf tried to laugh. He huffed like a dog doing it.

No. But it does make you my responsibility until you take a mate who can look out for you. Being part of a pack is like having a large family. I think you might like it once you understand it.

Ariel snorted. “So I’m an alpha. Does being alpha mean you’re top dog or something?”

We are canis lupis, not dogs. Alaska is home to more than eleven thousand wolves. More than half are what humans call werewolves. This is what you have become, Ariel Jones. You are now both human and wolf, as are the other two females. They are your charges and the first of your pack. They are your responsibility and will look to you for guidance on how to adjust to their new lives.

His comments—which she was starting to believe weren’t just voices in her head—had Ariel standing on wobbly legs and walking to the bars of her prison. In the cages next to hers, two multi-colored wolves paced restlessly. They were less than half the size of the black wolf, but still real enough to convince her she wasn’t just having a nightmare. Oh no—she was living one.

“Brandi. Heidi. Relax. We’re going to escape. I promise.” When both multi-colored wolves sat and turned to her expectantly, Ariel shook her head. She knew their names and could command their obedience. Though she’d never been a person given to swearing, there were no normal words to express the enormity of her shock. Was she truly going to one day be a wolf as well?

“Un—fucking—believable,” she whispered. She turned her head until she saw the edge of the giant black wolf as he leaned against one side of his cage. “Reed? Is the giant black wolf you?”

Yes, Ariel. The giant black wolf is me. You should see the alpha of the Wasilla Pack. Matt’s wolf is even bigger.

She felt like peeing herself when the black wolf turned his head and met her gaze like a human would during a conversation. He had the greenest eyes she’d ever seen on a man or animal. They were filled with a kind of determination she’d never felt before, but had a feeling she was about to get an education in it.

Crane returns. I know it is him. His stench will haunt me for the next hundred years of my life.

“Okay. I’m wide awake now and mostly willing to believe you,” she said, hoping all three wolves understood she was working her way to acceptance as fast as she could. She went back to her cot and huddled under the short cover. “Hey Reed, did I get bigger or something?”

Yes. And you are strong enough to kill the men who will be trying to kill you. You have to try, Ariel. It is important to me that you and the other women survive. When they open the cage to take you out of it, call your wolf to help. She will be more than happy to answer. I’ve been helping you hold her back until the time was right.

“My mind is having a hell of a time trying to believe all of this is real, but I’m sure as hell not ready to die. Let’s say I believe you. What does my wolf look like?”

Until she comes, none of us will know. I just hope she’s big and strong. Rest now and pretend to be weak. You do not want them to know what you really are until it is too late.

Ariel leaned back on the cot and tried to look as pathetic as possible so her captors would believe she was just as harmless as they assumed she was.

Inside, she was praying that Reed—or whatever inner voice was helping her survive—was right about her being able to free them all.

About the Author

Donna McDonald is an active dreamer and finds writing to be the best way to use her creativity.

Needing to satisfy both sides of her brain, she is a cross-genre author of contemporary, fantasy, and paranormal romances. Her books appear on bestseller lists for humor, romantic comedy, space opera, and more.

She craves laughter from her readers and focuses her attention on making that happen as often as possible. She loves to hear from anyone who has read her books.

Author Links

Website

Facebook: Donna Jane McDonald

Donna McDonald SciFi Romances

Twitter: @scifiwoman13

Blog

Buy Links

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GIVEAWAY

5 copies of Ariel in ebook format (any channel)

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Release Day Blitz: Portrait of a Lone Wolf

Portrait of a Lone Wolf

Black Hills Wolves, Book 7

Katalina Leon

Decadent Publishing, @91 pages

A mixed-blood Native American wolf-shifter, abandoned by a teenage mother and ignored by an absentee father, Rio Waya has never fit in or felt worthy of love. But when he comes home to the Black Hills, he realizes he wants a mate of his own.

Recovering from a cheating ex who started a new family behind her back, Sela López seeks escape to pull her life back together. As a documentary filmmaker and wildlife photographer, she rents a cabin in the Black Hills with plans to film the beleaguered wolf population. But she’s so busy looking through a camera lens she doesn’t see trouble coming.

Sparks fly as mutual fears and vulnerabilities surface when Sela and Rio meet. She can’t figure out why the mysterious Mr. Waya is so anxious about having a documentary made of the Black Hills Wolves. But when his secret is exposed, all hell breaks loose. Can Rio win Sela’s trust and soothe her fears about allowing a hunky wolf-shifter into her heart? 

Buy Links:    Amazon UK    Decadent Publishing    Amazon

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Excerpt:

Following her nose through the front door, she was thrust into a honky-tonk time warp. Bars like this one didn’t exist in Los Angeles. The Den was cozy enough but appeared to have been decorated by a taxidermist in the late seventies and zealously preserved since. The shaggy heads of several unfortunate buffalo dominated the far wall. At the front door, two stuffed raccoons offered a mock greeting with outstretched paws. The chairs, booths, and even a few of the tables were covered in forest green vinyl. No doubt a sticky misery to come in contact with on a hot day.

Movement caught her eye. A burly man with an inscrutable expression rose from behind a counter as if he was part of a magic act. He was tall with a barrel chest. A nappy brown sweater coupled with hunched posture lent him a distinctly bearlike appearance.

The dour gentleman focused on Sela with a frown. “Where did you come from?”

Steppenwolf’s “Born To Be Wild” was cranked to eleven. She had to shout to be heard, “Can I order some food to go?”

The saggy-faced Papa bear behind the counter appeared perturbed. “Fair warning, miss. The kitchen’s closed. Pretty sure we don’t have what you want.”

The explosive clack of a pool cue making hard contact with a ball nearly drowned her out. “Except for you, everything’s closed in this town!”

A few customers cast her a brief glance then looked away. The lucky bastards sat in front of pitchers of cold beer, towering hamburgers, paired with heaps of french fries or onion rings. Her stomach growled embarrassingly loud, but she doubted anyone could hear above the blaring music. “Something smells heavenly. Could I at least order onion rings to go?”

Bear man shook his head. “Sorry. No can do. Fryer’s turned off.”

“Really?” Digging through her purse, she wondered if this place would accept a credit card. “I’m willing to pay a little extra for the trouble.”

With a sullen pout, he rubbed a limp rag across the countertop. “After hours The Den ain’t open to the general public. Guess what? It’s after hours.”

“Oh, come on!” She sounded desperate.

A man in a red plaid shirt, who appeared to be in his mid-thirties, sat at the counter. He shot her a smoldering look filled with mixed emotions. Perhaps he was angry or lost in thought. She couldn’t tell. The flash of fire in his eyes beneath brooding black brows was impossible to decipher. When he opened his mouth, the tough gravel voice of a drill sergeant rumbled out. “Gee, don’t be a hard ass. Get the lady some onion rings.”

The lumbering hairy thing behind the counter, presumably named Gee, thrust out his bottom lip and lifted his hands into the air in mock surrender. “Why not? It’s not like my house rules ever get any respect anyway.”

From the corner of her eye, Sela glimpsed a huge silver-furred canine dart from under a table, push a swinging door open with its muzzle, and disappear.

“Did I just see a wolf?” Sela gasped.

Bio: Katalina Leon

Katalina Leon is an artist and author who can’t commit to a single genre. Her favorite playgrounds are historical, Sci-fi, contemporary, and most of all paranormal realms. Katalina brings a sense of adventure and a touch of the mystical to erotic romance. She believes there's a daring heroine inside every woman who wants to take a wild ride with a strong worthy hero.

Black Hills Wolves, “Portrait of a Lone Wolf” book 7, Katalina Leon

Decadent Publishing. http://www.decadentpublishing.com/

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