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Saturday, September 22, 2018

A Bear Shifter Thanksgiving Romance - Snippet Saturday

Snippet Saturday - Cloudy with a Chance of a Thanksgiving Romance by Summer Donnelly

Moving forward, I want to take Silver Fells into a fun, new direction. Cage fighting meets shifters with a heavy dose of romance? Hopefully, you'll want to sign up for a regular dose.

I have two holiday short stories coming out in anthologies. First up, a Thanksgiving soft intro into the BKB - the Bear Knuckle Brawlers.

Meet Tank Walker and Bree O'Shea. Tank is in Silver Fells to train with Zane Dixon (you'll meet him in November's book!) Bree is a teacher taking care of her little brother after the death of their parents.

“Stop! Thief!”
Twenty-eight-year-old bear shifter Tank Walker looked up in time to see a young kid, no more than thirteen, dart between customers on the streets of Silver Fells, North Carolina.
Tank hadn’t been in the small town long enough to determine if there was a criminal element but found it hard to believe anyone would be moved to theft in the idyllic village teeming with shifters.
“It’s that O’Shea brat again. I wish his sister would either get him in juvie or control him.”
It wasn’t that long ago that would have been him the shopkeepers were talking about, he thought. Whoever the O’Shea kid was, Tank felt an instant kinship.
Oh, no, not that Walker kid again.
Hide the merchandise, Buddy, it’s the Walker kid again.
Be home before dark, Angie. The Walker boy is out on parole.
Tank sniffed out the kid and followed at a sedate pace. Running would only set the boy in a panic. Eventually, he’d get tired, rest. And that’s when Tank would pounce.
He wouldn’t hurt the kid. Just scare him a little bit. Make sure he returned whatever bit of merchandise he’d stolen. It was the Monday before Thanksgiving. Maybe the kid was out doing a little early Christmas shopping, five finger discount style.
Tank didn’t consider himself a knight in shining armor or anything. His record was too dirty to ever be that. But, he was good with his hands.
Maybe a little too good. Tank smirked thinking of the things he’d stolen in his youth. The turn styles he’d jumped. The pockets he’d picked.
It wasn’t until Tank had tried to pick the pocket of a bear shifter—an honest to God bear shifter!—that Tank had been scared straight.
He chuckled at the memory of Seth Law. Seth was a big dude but the way he’d been dressed, Tank had been confident he was the original Lord Prep and Douche. An easy mark, for sure.
Except Seth was anything but a victim.
Tank rounded the corner, seeing the O’Shea kid panting as he hid behind some garbage cans.
“O’Shea,” Tank called, coming up behind him.
The kid startled but Tank’s right hand was quicker. It contacted with the boy’s shoulder in a vicelike grip.
O’Shea’s foot shot out to kick him. Tank rolled his eyes at the boy’s feeble attempts. “Look,” he said, grabbing O’Shea’s right hand in both of his hands. Tank brought his hand down and swung his left hand over the kid’s head, positioning him for a standing armbar. “I don’t want to hurt you. Just make it right for the folks you stole from. They didn’t do nothing to you.”
“What are you, a goon squad? Get off me, asshole.”
“Stealing is wrong,” Tank said calmly. “Now, we can go easy or hard, but you’re going back to that shop, returning whatever you lifted, and apologizing. Got it?”
O’Shea swung with his left hand, a weak punch that glanced off Tank’s ribs. “Hard way it is,” Tank said, applying just the slightest amount of pressure to set the armbar. Not a lot, just enough until realization set in the kid’s eyes.
For Tank, control was everything.
“Get off my brother, you big jerk!” Thwack!
“What the?” Tank muttered, letting go of the kid to deal with the banshee hitting him with what felt like a bag of bricks.
“Go pick on someone your own size!”


This is just a short story. Please let me know if you'd like to read a full-length book about these two. As I get a link for the antho, I'll update and share!!

Facebook fan group (First chance at ARC):



Saturday, September 8, 2018

Who are the Shifter Special Forces?

I wanted a rare sub-set of humans. Like Navy SEALs or Marines but you know. I little fuzzier.

The first book that came to me was Creole James' book. It slammed into me, pretty much fully formed. Unfortunately, it needed to be set up. Cree is a great character and I love him and his devotion to his mate, but he needed a bigger universe to hang the story on.

That's how Quinn's book became first in the series. I needed an alpha. But, if you've read Quinn's book (wait! you didn't? well, get on over to Amazon and go get you a Mastiff shifter), you'll know he's a calm alpha. With mountain lions, bears, leopards, and more floating around I wanted an animal that could herd them all AND remain calm.

The town and the world have grown and will hopefully continue to grow. I've got lots of books and stories in me and I hope you join me on my journey!

The newest book in the series is Interview with Her Bear where we meet Lana and Jason. I hope you enjoy!

Snippet from Interview:

“This reminds me of that scene in Cinderella where the Grand Duke is looking for the girl who will fit the glass slipper.”
A hint of a grin played around Jason’s mouth as he lifted her worn canvas and rubber sneaker up so the moon illuminated it. The soles were worn thin in places, the shoelaces were patched, and the canvas was full of holes. “This is a far cry from Cinderella’s shoes.”
Luna giggled, ducking her chin to hide behind a curtain of platinum blonde hair. “It’s the thought that counts,” she argued.
Jason’s hands paused as he slipped off one pump. He placed it next to Luna on the bench. “Your toes look sore,” he commented.
Once more, the unexpected arousal crashed into Luna. Her foot looked small and delicate in his paw of a hand. She would be small and delicate in his hands, too. A darker thought rushed through her slim frame. And his bed.
Oh, Lord, what kind of bed did Jason sleep in? Did he stretch out across the whole thing or would there be a Luna-sized place reserved just for her?
No, no, no, she reminded herself, feeling her insides continue to soften and pulse with need. She had a job to do, a secret to uncover, and then her home was back in Maine. There was no room in the plan for losing her V-card to a bear shifter dude. Even if he was the sexiest man, she had ever met.

He began massaging the soles of her feet, loosening muscles she didn’t even know were tense. “Ohhhh,” she whispered, eyes drifting shut with the sensuality of his touch. She was going to orgasm if he kept that up and Luna couldn’t decide if that was a very bad idea or the best idea in the history of ever. 

Saturday, September 1, 2018

Claiming her Leopard by Summer Donnelly

*~*~*Snippet Saturday*~*~*

~ all the usual disclaimers. These are my characters. Hot off my word doc and haven't been editied yet. 


“Women who were almost seventy years old should not be traipsing around the mountains looking for a crazy leopard shifter with more rosettes than sense,” Dot Lowell mumbled to herself.
She wiped at her face, pushing long curls of her hair away from her sweat-drenched brow. Dot had a moment of feminine unease as she wondered if Nick would even recognize her anymore. She was hardly a girl of twenty.
Ironically, she tugged on one of her own spirals. It bounced back to her crown in willful delight. “Not only don’t I have brown hair anymore but I probably still ironed it flat.”
Dot chuckled when she thought of the contortions she put her body (and hair!) through to get it bone-straight. “Such silly girls we were.” But was it really different from her daughter Caroline’s fascination with permanent waves or Luna’s desire to color her hair?
The sweat from her exertion combined with the humidity of the day making her feel gross and dirty. Was she on some crazy wild goose chase? Or would she find her husband once and for all?
“Even if he is my estranged husband.”
The flight from Maine had been quick and uneventful. Her granddaughter Luna and her mate Jason had met her. Jason had even been warm despite Dot’s distrust of the tall, handsome bear shifter.
Luna had a popular blog called Shifter Sightings. Using the contacts she’d developed over the last several years, Luna had tracked her grandfather to the small town of Silver Fells.
Buried in the North Carolina mountains, Silver Fells was home to a diner, a yoga studio, one real estate company, and a bar with the crazy name of The Lusty Leopard.
Oh, and several dozen former military shifter types.
Cree James, a mountain lion shifter, was the manager of the Lusty Leopard. Which just happened to be owned by one Nicholas Lowell. Her husband.
She glanced at the map Cree James drew for her. That was definitely a goat-shaped rock, so she must be going in the right direction.
Never mind the fact that she wouldn’t be seventy for another two years, walking around in snake, cougar, and bear-infested woods was not Dot’s idea of a good time. Portland may not be a major city by Manhattan or Los Angeles’ standards, but it had its charm.
The best of which was the decided lack of bears, snakes, and mountain lions within the city’s limits.
Despite any rumors the rest of the country thought, not everyone who lived in Maine was a hearty, eccentric type or a character out of a Stephen King novel. Some of them even preferred the occasional trip to Boston to catch a concert or a game.
But now, here she was in tennis shoes, for crying out loud! Sweating and walking though the woods. “I’ll probably be covered in ticks by the time this is finished,” Dot muttered.
“He’ll scent you,” Jason told her.
Dot wasn’t quite sure how to feel about her only granddaughter getting engaged to a bear shifter with the unlikely name of Jason Fox. What kind of name was that for a bear shifter anyway? Dot wondered.
Dot congratulated herself on the fact that she didn’t give Luna any lectures, though. Okay, yes, there was a stern look over her reading glasses. Had the girl learned nothing from seeing her grandmother’s pain?
She sighed. They would have a talk when Dot came down from the mountains. Dot couldn’t allow her only granddaughter to wind up with such an inappropriate husband.
She kicked up a small cascade of leaves, their scent setting off another memory. Her love for Nick.
Oh, she’d been ridiculously in love with him. Nothing would have stopped her from getting marrying Nick. Not even the fact she was only sixteen.
After a whirlwind courtship, she had begged her parents to sign the paperwork saying she could get married. She’d promised them she’d get her GED. Vowed she wouldn’t get pregnant. Swore that their love would be eternal.
Dot shook her head at her childish naivete. She had eventually gotten her GED, had returned home pregnant, and, although the love had been eternal, the marriage had not been.
So, there she’d been a child bride when she said “I do” and he was all of twenty, gangly with youth but looking so handsome in his uniform.
Her granddaughter was twenty-five, far older than she’d been when she got married. And Dot wasn’t so old she couldn’t recognize stupid in love when it smacked her on the nose. But still. That didn’t mean she had to like it.
Cree and Jason told her to not try and cover her scent. If anything, the walk in the woods would make her ripe for Nick to find her. Dot didn’t think much of the idea of being “ripened” but figured they knew more about that kind of thing than she did.
As Dot went around a bend in the trail, she found herself facing a rustic line shack. She snorted with laughter. It put those chic two hundred square foot little houses on TV to shame. Forget modern conveniences, this looked like something out of a Hollywood set designer’s idea of a moonshiner’s cabin. Not only was it barely standing but it didn’t look much bigger than an outhouse.
Dot would be surprised if there was room enough inside for a twin bed.
Opening the door and feeling quite a bit like Goldie Locks on a woodland adventure, Dot entered. “Hello?” she called, hoping against all logic there were no bears inside. Or bear shifters. Or whatever existed in this out back of beyond she was currently visiting.
Dot hoped her granddaughter knew where to find her because she was pretty sure she was going to die from either shock or a very fine mauling.
Other than a thick layer of grime and a plethora of dust motes dancing in the cabin, it was empty, at least from any animals. In one corner was an Army-surplus cot with a thin mattress. A blanket and pillow were neatly folded on one end. In the other corner was some sort of sink. There didn’t appear to be running water, so the sink was more for show than anything else. A quick glance under the cabinet showed a bucket for any water that ran off.
Dot began to think “rustic” was an overreaching compliment. Barren and primitive were far more appropriate.
Continuing her exploration, she looked in the pantry and found a case of water, some MREs that were still within date (guaranteed to last thirty years!), and plenty of freeze dried ice cream. Apparently, one thing that hadn’t changed was Nick’s sweet tooth. Cree told her to take what she needed while she was there. He would restock next month.
Placing her backpack on the round kitchen table that took up most of the square footage in the minuscule shack, Dot gathered a few candles and collected wood for the small wood burning stove. She was prepared to give her wayward husband forty-eight hours to find her and then she was out of this tiny town forever. And, hopefully, dragging Luna with her.
A cracked and rusty mirror hung on the wall. Dot stopped, caught by her own reflection. Would Nick be attracted to the woman she’d become?
“Stop it, Dot. Don’t go there.”
But once the line of thought opened, it wasn’t as easy to slam shut. Unbidden, she wondered what he looked like after all these years.
“Probably fat and ugly.” It was a mean thought. Beneath her, but after being abandoned for decades, she was entitled to a little bit of meanness. Or at least that’s what she told herself.
Dot thought back to the cabin she was staying at when she first arrived in Silver Fells. Affectionately named Little Yellow, or as Luna dubbed it The Love Shack, it had a warm, cozy bed and a beautiful quilt to sleep under.
A cabin full of magic, Luna said.

“This one is full of more dust than magic.”

ready for more shifter adventures? 

Saturday, August 25, 2018

・*゚‘゚*Snippet Saturday ・*゚‘゚* Interview with Her Bear by Summer Donnelly

 ・*゚‘゚*Snippet Saturday ・*゚‘゚*

Interview with Her Bear

by Summer Donnelly

**Last weekend at Fan Pricing**
Go get you a sexy bear shifter before the price goes up!!

Blogger Luna Flowers has arrived in Silver Fells, NC to help bring awareness to the Shifter Marriage Act being floated in Raleigh. But Luna has an ulterior motive, a secret that she's been asked to keep that could change the way the shifters view themselves.

Bartender Jason Fox wasn't looking for love. He'd long since given up on trying to find his mate. The 6'7" shifter was aware he wasn't good with small things and was content with his lot in life. But when he meets tiny Luna, he may need to rethink his position on mates, love, and small things.
Will Luna's secret break them apart? Can Jason trust himself and his mate? Will the magic of Little Yellow (aka The Love Shack) prevail? Find out in Interview with her Bear! Available soon.


Jason Fox was thirteen the first time he realized the world was too small for him. When he hit his full adult height of 6’7” at nineteen with broad shoulders and tree trunks for legs, he made the decision to join the Shifter Special Forces.

The choice of accepting bear DNA wasn’t really a decision at all. He was a big hairy dude who liked to eat. So were bears. It was a match made in heaven.

Jason had no regrets. He loved being a Shifter. Enjoyed the camaraderie of the other Shifters he’d met. He’d been a damn good soldier and if he took a little more pleasure when it came to being an enforcer, well. He was okay with that.

What Jason hated, however, was how he never seemed to get used to things that were fragile. From cell phones to antique furniture, it made him uncomfortable. He knew he was a bear in a china store and he hated it.

He didn’t date much. Oh, he’d sown some oats when he’d been younger. He’d been stationed in Germany in his twenties and explored the more relaxed side of European culture.
On returning to the States, he’d settled down in Silver Fells, North Carolina. He loved the small-town feel his fellow shifters gave him. He wasn’t the same randy boy he’d once been, though. If he met someone, he wanted a forever kind of girl.

So, when the cute little blogger with the big grey eyes and platinum-blonde hair appeared, Jason knew he was in trouble. Delicate with just the right amount of curves, she was everything he wanted and nothing he could claim.

“Look at that,” Flo called to him. “Looks like you’re sitting here with Luna and me.”
Jason felt his eyes go wide as he took the last seat open to him. Right next to Luna. He nodded towards her, not surprised when she dropped her eyes down to her plate. She wiped at her cheeks, and he was pretty sure she was crying.

“You okay?” he whispered as the toasts began.

She nodded, more than a little sad. “It’s just so beautiful. I guess I’m a little envious of how much they love each other, you know?” Luna lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug.

Jason looked from Luna to the newly married couple. Despite sitting in a room full of friends and family, their connection sizzled. Long, intense glances promised a heated wedding night.
“It’s not always easy to be a shifter. We don’t exactly fit into civilization. It makes me glad they found each other.”

Luna smiled at him, a tentative bubble of awareness growing between them. “I am, too,” she said.
Jason’s heart ached. He wanted her to smile like that at him for the rest of his life. He lifted his wine glass in a small toast gesture.

Luna lifted hers, and they clinked lightly. But when Jason pulled his back, the delicate stem snapped in half.

“Oh.” Luna’s mouth formed a perfect O in surprise as they both looked at the glass hit the table.
Jason felt shame work its way up his spine. “I’m not good with delicate things,” he said.

Her grey eyes took in the relative size of the size of his hands—paws really—compared to the wine glass. Calmly and deliberately, she helped him clean up the mess. 

Saturday, July 28, 2018

Snippet Saturday - Her Lonely Mastiff

Her Lonely Mastiff
by Summer Donnelly

Quinn tossed the bag of burgers onto the passenger seat and glared at the neon lights of the Leopard. Stupid bar. Stupid shifters. Stupid desire to claim.
Unwanted emotions pummeled Quinn as he pulled away from the Lusty Leopard. He ground his teeth against a growl tearing at his throat. The desire to fight. To attack. To defend what he saw as home ate at him and his whole body ached from the resistance.
Not many of them realized Quinn had been the first shifter. After he’d retired, all he’d craved was the quiet of the mountains. The solace of running in the woods. Time to consider the deal he’d made with the Army right after boot camp, the guy from the Pentagon had shown up and made him an offer.
The Shifter Special Forces were looking for more men. There was a lot to gain by allowing the government to splice animal DNA with a human. The ability to shift. Heightened senses.
Of course, this was also Quinn’s first lesson that the military tended to downplay the negatives of an operation when looking for volunteers. What the man from the Pentagon hadn’t told him was that Quinn would be unable to have children of his own. First, the Pentagon wanted to keep track of the number of shifters in the country. Letting them have babies willy-nilly if they survived their service contract would have been counterproductive. Secondly, they weren’t quite sure spliced DNA would work with human DNA.
Quinn had signed on the bottom line and received his animal the next day. Quinn loved the stubborn beast that lived within him. They’d run herd together as a gunnery sergeant. They’d protected his men. Protected his country for twenty years.
And then, when his time was done, he’d received his discharge papers without as much as a “fuck you” from the government.
Quinn had returned home to Maxwell Mountains, the land his great-grandfather had claimed deep within the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina. Despite the loneliness, Quinn had needed the solitude.
First on the scene had been Cree James. Cree was the unexpected offspring of a mountain lion shifter and a human. He’d remained off the grid of the government for years, but a stint in juvie had exposed him as a partial shifter.
That told Quinn all he needed to know about the Army and their deal. It was fucking bullshit.
And as his men came home. Didn’t fit in. Couldn’t find jobs, one by one they’d found him. Came to the mountains. Settled the Silver Fells land. Built businesses and homes.
But the biological fact was, you couldn’t have a few hundred men settle a town without women. They became edgy. Restless. Territorial.
And Lacey St. Claire had wandered her delectable body right into the middle of a mangy pack of horny shifters. With Quinn Maxwell being the horniest, mangiest, and most territorial of the lot because she had sauntered right up to him and settled on his property.
Quinn breathed a sigh of relief when he returned home and saw the light in Lacey’s cabin. He stared for a moment as her shadows moved around the cabin. Somehow, in the space of only an hour, she had given the dilapidated shack a quality of hominess.
One he would miss when she was gone. Because she was going.
He was going to contact the realtor he used and ream them out. This kind of fuck up was unacceptable. The last thing he needed was to babysit a human unable to protect herself.

The problem was he liked her. Her southern sass. That mouth that didn’t know when to stop. The way she leered at him like he was a stripper on a pole. 

Want to read more? 

Available on Amazon. 

Saturday, July 7, 2018

Having her Jaguar's Baby - Snippet Saturday Edition!

Snippet Saturday - and a special Fan Pricing on a pre-order!!

Having her Jaguar's Baby by Summer Donnelly

Forty-year-old Rafael Joaquín Chamorro retired from the Shifter Special Forces years ago. He rolled his military benefits into a successful real estate company in his adopted hometown of Silver Fells, North Carolina.

Twenty-seven-year-old hairdresser Melody Strauss came to Silver Fells to follow her attraction to Shifters. What she hadn't counted on was finding a home in the Carolina Mountains.

But during their sole night together the condom breaks. Will Rafe take responsibility? Can Melody risk falling in love with a man who isn't her mate? And what will she do if Rafael's mate ever shows up? Can Melody and Rafe work out the differences in their expectations to find their true love?


Forty-year-old Rafael Joaquín Chamorro cried out as he woke from a dead sleep. He panted in the quiet of his bedroom before wiping one large hand across his face. He looked around to get his bearings. The familiar artwork, the crisp cotton sheets, and the gentle purr of a cat grounded him.

“You’re fine, asshole,” he reminded himself. He was not trapped in a cage in some God-forsaken Latin American country. Not wearing his once sharp canines down on wire bars. Not pacing relentlessly in an area the size of a one-car garage. “You’re home.”

His coal-black hair, with the first touches of silver in it, was drenched in sweat. His body felt clammy and uncomfortable. Even the lush, high-end sheets felt rough against his skin.

Rafe ran his hands down his arms to push away the sensation of needles poking at him. He wasn’t a test subject to be poked, prodded, and tormented. His time in prison was over.

He swept the covers off his trim, muscular body before walking to the open window. He lifted the screen and leaned out. His sensitive eyes picked up the shadows of Maxwell Mountain in the distance. Since fighting in the revolution in Quibria, he hadn’t been able to sleep well. A decade of sleep deprivation pulled at a man’s soul.

Rafe rubbed his hand over thick stubble and closed his tired, gritty eyes. He couldn’t wait until the weather warmed up again. Rafe could usually catch a few more hours of sleep outside, but with winter around the corner, even he craved warmth.

He bent his head, letting the cold light of the moon wash him clean. Rinse away the memories of his time in a cage at the mercy of a Quibrian general.

Following the first World War, the United States government put their best scientists onto Project Shifter. By the end of the 1940s, they managed to figure out how to splice human and animal DNA to create viable super soldiers who could shift from human to animal.

Even knowing what he knew now, Rafe wasn’t sure he would change his decision. He felt such a kinship with his jaguar form and pitied civilians for never knowing the freedom. He’d been born and raised in Nicaragua, home of the big cat.

The handlers offered multiple animals for him to merge with but for him, it was always going to be the sleek, muscular jaguar of his native homeland.

And yet, he resented the hell out of the government’s restrictions on mating, marriage, and offspring. “Puchica!” Damn it. He muttered the swear out of frustration as he rubbed at his dry, tired eyes. Irritation rode him like a mosquito bite he couldn’t reach. He wanted a wife. Kids. The picket fence and even a cat or two.

The things he wanted were off limits because of a contract he signed at eighteen.

Palms itched to touch silken skin. To have the scent of her shampoo on his pillows again. But without her, he was damned.

In a split second decision, Rafe sought comfort he didn’t deserve. He inhaled, tracking her elusive scent that calmed his aching beast. Melody.

A hint of autumn rose, watermelon lip gloss, and the ephemeral scent of a woman. His woman.

“No,” Rafe argued with himself. “Not our woman. She can’t be.”


Available for pre-order, special fan pricing at 99c

Saturday, April 21, 2018

Snippet Time - a Home for her Hawk by Summer Donnelly

In A Home for Her Hawk, we meet Daniel Donofrio, an injured vet. Dan, a hawk shifter, was an intelligence officer until he lost one of his eyes. Unable to fly, Dan is angry at the world and not sure what his next step is.

Kimberly Bromstad is a single mother, college drop out trying to figure out her next step.

The attraction between these two is electric.


Thirty-year-old Daniel Donofrio didn’t want Kimber to know he’d waited up for her. She was twenty-one years old. He didn’t need to wait up for her. But under the guise of babysitting for one-month-old Anthony, he felt responsible.
Sure, that was it, he thought. Dan didn’t have to acknowledge the heat and electricity that arced between them. Didn’t have to admit he might be worried about the single mom. Didn’t have to confess that after thirty years of loneliness, Kimberly Bromstad was everything he wanted, needed, and could never have.
Like Cinderella, Kimber came home at the stroke of midnight. She slipped her shoes off in the dim light from the kitchen and approached the recliner. She smiled when she saw Anthony cuddled onto his chest.
“Daniel?” Her touch was a gentle caress. An animal as wild as he was shouldn’t have wanted to sink into her touch and beg to be petted. So, he forced himself to be still.
Dan opened his eye. Now more than ever, he detested the injury that cost him his right eye. He wanted to absorb the nuances of color on her cheeks. Each silken strand of her chestnut colored hair. The plays of blues that made her eyes appear violet.
“I need the baby,” Kimber whispered. She pressed one hand against her top and blushed. “Please.”
Without a word, he handed the sleeping baby to his mother. Dan saw the indecision in her eyes. He reached for her, urging her to sit on his lap. “Let me hold you.”
Kimber pulled back for just a moment before giving into the irresistible pull they created.
“My breasts are aching.” Kimber settled onto his lap and pulled up her shirt. “Please tell me he’s hungry.”
“I fed him at nine.” Dan held Kimber and watched while she tickled the baby’s feet.
“Be a good baby,” Kimber crooned to her son. “Help your mamma out, okay?”
Anthony stirred, yawned, and immediately began fussing. He snorted a little as he rooted and Kimber giggled at his enthusiasm. The room filled with a hushed silence broken only by the sound of Anthony latching onto his mother’s breast.
Kimber hissed. “Oh, that hurts so good.” She leaned down and cuddled into Dan’s chest. “We aren’t too heavy?”

“You’re perfect.”


Ready to read this sweet n sassy romance? 

A Home for her Hawk