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Saturday, July 21, 2018

Betting on her Bear: a Shifters Special Forces Short Story - FREE!

Story will be published in a few weeks but I thought I'd give ya'll a sneak peek at a new story. I'll keep this up for 48 hours and then take it down so it doesn't interfere with the KU program.

Betting on her Bear
A Shifter Special Forces Short Story
By Summer Donnelly
Everly Miller sauntered out of the back room of the Lusty Leopard Bar and Grille. The twenty-two-year old’s wide silk skirts brushed sensually against her bare legs. She struggled for a deep breath against the tightened lacings of her corset. The ribbon tied around her neck was set at a jaunty angle, ends trailing across her lightly freckled chest. Her strawberry blonde hair trailed down her back in tight corkscrew curls while the front was pulled from her forehead to emphasize her heart-shaped face.
She loved the first Monday of the month. Her boss, Cree James, organized the monthly game to help raise money to cover medical costs for the local shifter population. As much as Everly enjoyed helping people, that wasn’t the only reason she looked forward to the monthly game.
“I adore that outfit,” Fiona Hamilton said coming up behind her. “I wished the boss picked me to work the game.” She’d only been employed at the Leopard for two weeks, and this was the first charity game. “You’re so pretty. No wonder you can get away with showing your body off like that.”
“Do you think so?” Everly asked. Her mother had always made under-the-breath comments about the width of her hips and the thickness of her thighs.
“Absolutely,” Fee responded with a smile.
“I love it, too,” Everly confessed with a little wrinkle of her nose. She knew the corset exposed a tad more cleavage than was strictly proper but serving wenches got better tips with the more cleavage they showed. And besides, the costume made her feel pretty and feminine.
“I can’t believe how the silk skirts feel against my skin.” Everly stroked the lines of the burgundy skirt. But as much as she liked playing dress up for the monthly charity game, she didn’t want to keep all the action for herself. “But if you want to be in the game next month, Fee, I’ll trade shifts with you.”
“I know you really want to be in the game,” Fee teased. “And it has nothing to do with wearing a silk skirt.”
Bright pink tinged Everly’s delicate cheeks. “Is it that obvious?” she asked.
Fee hugged her friend gently. “To me? Yes. To the bear shifter in question? Probably not as much.”
“I don’t pay ya’ll for chatting,” Jason Fox growled from behind the bar.
Fee flipped the handsome bartender the middle finger. “You don’t pay us at all, Jason. You’re just the bartender.” Jason rolled his eyes in response.
“Stop,” Everly scolded. “You know I need this job. It’s the only one I could find while I’m in school. I need every dollar I can get.” A graphic art student at Maxwell Community College, Everly had a scholarship which covered her school expenses but needed a job for rent and food.
Because of her dyslexia, college hadn’t been easy for Everly. Her parents, refusing to believe the medical diagnosis, had suggested that since she hadn’t graduated before her twenty-first birthday, perhaps she should look elsewhere for support.
Everly had packed a bag, her laptop, and set out to find a new path.
Fee looked chagrined. “I’m sorry. I know. But if you need the tip money, why do you work the charity game?”
Just then Quinn Maxwell came in for the game. Hot on his heels were Zane Dixon and DeShawn Gagnon. Everly whimpered lightly as Zane moved with a predator’s grace.
Zane was well over six feet tall with broad shoulders that tapered neatly down into a sharp V. His white T-shirt was tucked into worn denim, and a leather vest completed his outfit for the night’s Western-themed poker game.
Eyes the color of winter gazed around the room, and Everly felt herself drawn ever closer to his power.
“You got it bad, girl,” Fee remarked.
“You have no idea.” Everly closed her eyes, praying for relief from the unrequited feelings coursing through her.
Fee smirked. “Is he worth losing out on a night’s tips?”
Everly took a deep, shuddering breath. “Oh, hell, yeah.” Now, if only the bear shifter would notice her.
Zane restrained his growl of discontent as the little waitress hustled drinks back to the back room. Soft breasts pushed against her tight corset and bounced lightly with every step. Sweat coated her hairline and caused the beauty’s copper-colored curls to darken to a walnut brown.
He had a love/ hate relationship with the monthly poker game. He liked having a chance to hang out with other shifters and raise money. He loved seeing sweet Everly in her corset and skirts. But he hated how other men ogled her. Despite never saying more than two words to the girl, Zane considered her his.
His bear considered her his.
But the man, much to his libido’s chagrin, resisted.
Everly bit her lip as she took another drink order and Zane fought the urge to soothe away the sting of her bite. If Zane were honest, he wanted to kiss all the plump bits of her flesh better.
Zane sighed and adjusted the fit of his jeans.
“Get me another,” cried DeShawn, playing the part of the town drunk. He slammed his hand down on the table and wobbled convincingly.
“Whisky, right?” Everly asked, smiling shyly at the man. Zane felt an unreasonable desire to punch his friend’s face in.
“What about you, Zane?” Were Zane’s ears playing tricks on him or did she stumble over his first name? “Can I get you another drink?” Everly asked when she got to Zane. Her large green eyes called to him, encouraging him to dive in and find freeroll into whatever happened next.
Zane wasn’t sure who wanted him dead. Cree for demanding period costumes for his staff for the charity game. Everly for looking so delectable in her cowboy call girl outfit. Or the Fates for putting them both in his path.
Zane left his home town in a bid to get away from judging eyes, not in the search for a bed partner. But when he saw the tiny college student serving drinks, he couldn’t make his legs travel further than Maxwell Mountain, North Carolina.
“A drink?” Everly asked again, her voice growing hesitant.
“Oh, sorry. Yeah, a bourbon. Neat. Thanks.” She nodded without writing the order down. Zane wondered how she memorized all their drinks without paper and pen.
Their eyes met, and Zane shifted in his seat as desire shot through his body. He was either going to have to figure a way to get the redhead out of his headspace or leave town.
But Maxwell Mountain was the first shifter town he’d found where people respected his privacy while letting him be a part of the community. Zane didn’t want to leave and yet, what did he need with a teenage waitress?
The door to the back room burst opened and slammed against the opposing wall. Enough tension rose in the room to change the temperature. Unconsciously, Everly stepped back towards Zane’s protective heat. 
Sheriff Kyle Winters glared at the gathered group of men. His silvery grey hair spilled from beneath the brim of his hat. His brown uniform was perfectly pressed. Cold blue eyes took in the scene before him. Anger and resentment rolled off of him in waves.
Zane sized him up in an instant. Winters was arrogant. Petty. The kind of man who would spit in another man’s whiskey just for the pleasure of ruining the drink.
Quinn nodded to the man. “Sheriff. Can we help you?”
“There’s a horse out front,” the sheriff said, eyes narrowing. “No livestock allowed in the town limits of Silver Fells.”
“It’s my horse.” After making sure his cards were completely face down, Zane stood. “I’ve been coming here for a few months. It’s never been an issue before.”
“Litter issues,” Sheriff Winters said. “Health problems.”
“I’m sure a horse in town isn’t that big of a deal.”
The sheriff narrowed his eyes. “And you are?”
“Stan Holt. Mayor of Silver Fells.”
Zane couldn’t help the sardonic grin as he waited for the sheriff to respond to the mayor.
“Then you should know the ordinances better than anyone,” Sheriff Winters returned, eyes narrowed.
Zane sighed. He hated pissing contests. “The game usually winds up at ten. How about if I promise not to bring him back next month, okay?”
“Not good enough.” Winters eyed Zane up with the same intensity Zane used to observe the sheriff. “Do I know you? Are you new to the county?”
“Been a few months,” Zane responded, chin tilted and jaw firm. He hadn’t served his country for a decade to be pushed around by some pissant small-town sheriff.
“He’s staying in one of my cabins.” Quinn vouched for him.
“Another shifter?” Winters asked with a sneer.
“Bear. You got an issue with it?” Zane challenged. He was sick of the scorn and mockery in civilian’s voices. It’s why he’d left his hometown in upstate New York.
“Only when they park their damn horses on my streets.”
Zane rolled his eyes. What kind of a dick for brains hated horses? “He’s tethered out front. Not hurting anyone. I’ll clean up any mess he makes. If it makes you feel better, I won’t bring him back again.”
“So, you’re refusing to move your horse?”
“Oh, for pity’s sake,” Quinn said, facing off against the sheriff on Zane’s behalf. “Back off, Winters.”
“Or what? You’re going to sic your dog on me.” The insult towards Quinn’s Mastiff form was clear.
Zane flinched for Quinn, and yet the older man took it in stride. Calm brown eyes met the sheriff’s with a silent challenge. “I don’t know why you’ve got such a hardon for Zane or his horse but get over it.”
Cree came to the entrance of his back room. He nodded to Everly to leave.
Zane felt her loss immediately. “Problem, gentlemen?”
Winters raised one arthritic finger and pointed it straight at Zane. “This asshole thinks he can bring a horse into the center of town. The ordinances are clear. There’s even a sign.”
Cree’s lips twisted in derision. “One sign you posted behind the grocery store. No one else knows it’s there.”
Zane almost smiled when the sheriff began sputtering in outrage.
“Besides, if I remember correctly, that law was passed in 1932 so teams of horses didn’t startle when cars drove around.”
A wild flush appeared on the sheriff’s cheeks. “And if it did?”
“Then you’d also know that it doesn’t apply to private property,” Cree said, icy green eyes challenging the sheriff’s authority. “And just to remind you in case you forgot, the Leopard is private property.” Cree’s arms folded across his chest and he stared at Winters with the narrow-eyed intent of a mountain lion. “Now, stop wasting my time, harassing my patrons, and get out before I call someone with more influence than you’ll ever have.”
Sputtering with indignation, Winters stormed out of the private room just as Everly returned with the drinks. “Get out of my way, you stupid girl!” He pulled back a hand and purposefully tipped her tray.
“What the?” Everly demanded as she overbalanced in order to keep the tumblers from falling to the floor. Using every ounce of her concentration, she rebalanced the tray. No glasses were broken, but several of the drinks spilled. “Look what you made me do!” A hot flush stained her cheeks as she glared at the lawman.
“Get out. Now.” Cree grabbed the sheriff by the collar. “You come in here, insult my customers, attack my waitress, and steal my profits. Get the hell out. Now.” Acting as his own bouncer, Cree hustled the older man out the door.
“You okay?” Zane asked, grabbing a towel from the sideboard to help clean the mess.
Everly only nodded, her eyes averted. “I feel so stupid. You don’t think I’ll get in trouble, do you?” Outside the window, they heard Cree continuing his diatribe against the sheriff’s overreach of power.
Zane smiled. “Sounds like Cree knows just where to place the blame.”
When Everly left to refill the drink orders, Zane couldn’t help but follow the sweet movement of her rear. Maybe he wasn’t too old for her, after all, he thought. A college sophomore was what these days? Nineteen? Twenty? Were eight years really that big of an issue?
As she finally handed out the round of drinks, her boss’ cursing caught her attention. She slid between DeShawn and Zane to hand out their drinks. And if the upper curve of her breast just happened to touch the sleeve of Zane’s shirt? Well, oopsie. Call her a klutz.
After setting Zane’s drink down on his coaster with a bashful smile, Everly went to the window and pulled aside the curtain. And snorted with laughter.
Zane folded his hand and went to stand in position behind her. “What’s going on?” he asked.
She shivered in response to the warm puff of his breath. “Look at the sheriff’s shiny black shoes.” Everly turned to look up at him and stopped. She’d never noticed other people’s lips before, but Zane’s looked beyond kissably soft. They were temptation personified.
“He stepped in Archer’s shit.” Laughter shook Zane’s broad shoulders, and Everly had to clench her fists to keep from stroking his chestnut hair. She closed her eyes. How could one man be the embodiment of everything she found attractive.
“Isn’t that a kicker? Sounds like Archer is the real hero in this scuffle,” Everly teased, gazing up at Zane from the corners of her eyes.
Zane met her gaze for one full second. Two. A third. He took her hand and led her away from the hotly contested game. “I’m at my limit, Everly Miller.”
The breath caught in Everly’s throat. “Wh-what do you mean?” Had she done something wrong? All she’d wanted was for him to notice her. But had she somehow misjudged the situation? Had she gone too far?
Zane tilted her chin. “You’re way too young for me, little girl. You’re dancing with more fire than you can handle.”
Everly frowned. Zane didn’t look that old. “I’m twenty-two. How old are you?”
Zane’s mouth dropped in surprise. “You don’t look a day over eighteen.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, wincing when she realized how much it pushed her boobs out. If Zane wasn’t interested in her curves, she shouldn’t be showing them. Instantly, she dropped her arms to her sides.
“Well, I am,” she said with a sniff. Everly turned on the ball of one foot to storm away, but Zane caught her by the arm.
“You’re twenty-two,” he clarified.
“Yes. Not that I’d be interested in an old man like you.” How dare he think she’d lie.
Zane pressed his body against hers, gently forcing her back into a wall. “Twenty-seven isn’t old,” he said. He leaned over, his warm breath sending tingles down her spine.
“You said it first,” Everly said, swallowing when she felt the touch of Zane’s broad chest against her breasts. The gentle friction made her acutely aware of the touch.
“Maybe I changed my mind,” Zane said, tilting his head down to whisper in her ear. Eyes drifting shut, Everly reveled in the thrill that slid down her spine with languid ease.
“I was worried the sheriff was going to arrest you,” Everly said, glancing up at him.
Zane brushed his nose against the bridge of Everly’s nose. The gesture was sweet and heart-wrenching. “Didn’t you know, little Everly? When in doubt, always bet on the bear.”
She giggled in response. “I’ll remember that.”
“You do that,” he teased, brown eyes warm and enticing.
Her breathing grew ragged with the first delicate licks of arousal. “What are you saying?”
“Would you go out with me?” Zane asked, his fingers twining in her curls.
She felt her body soften in response. “Yes.”
Zane’s lips were supple and tender as he pressed a kiss on hers. Pleasure was like a siren’s call, luring her closer. Until with warm, sweet satisfaction, they shared their first kiss.

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

Saturday, April 14, 2018

Where Shifters meet Fairy tales

Thistle Grove is a small universe I began. I didn't intend for it to be as "young adult" as it feels, but when I kept to the canon of the original story, the prince remains a bear until the third act of the 2nd book. 

It became more about the sisters and their relationship as they fell in love with a pair of bear shifters. I couldn't call it a romance, at least not by Romance Writers of America standards but there are certainly strong romantic elements. 

I've had a few readers reach out to me, confused. Is it a romance or is it Fantasy Yong Adult? The answer is YES. 

Twenty years ago, the Wicked Witches rose up and kicked the Fables out of the Woods. Forced into appearing human, the Fables began living in the village of Thistle Grove. Here you'll meet Red-Rose and Snow-White, two sisters who live with their mother and fall in love with brother bear shifters. Ruby, a woman in a red cape who runs a concierge business running errands for people. There's Sheriff Avery Wolfe, who loves to antagonize Ruby. I've got at least two more books planned in this universe and I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I do writing them. 

This isn't your typical story and I'm not sure there's a strong market for these books, but sometimes it's fun letting my imagination out and playing. 

Snow, the 2nd book in the series, is now available on pre-order. Go live date is April 21, 2018.


As nineteen-year-old Snow cleaned her hands and face, she thought about how much she missed her sister. Her Mom. The cottage she shared on the edge of Thistle Grove. But when the Baron went missing, and Red took off to rescue him, the whole mess fell onto Snow’s shoulders.
Learning to use weaponry was all new to her. She’d been a sheltered girl before the attacks. Then children began going missing. Then Red got involved with the Baron. And like a neat link on a chain, Snow got involved next.
As she washed her hands, Snow’s once soft skin rubbed against fresh blisters and growing callouses. Each blister and callous were a visual reminder that she was changing. Growing up. Getting tough.
Ruby joined her to help with dinner. “Grandmother once told me three things happen when we’re put in hot water. We can be like an egg, a carrot, or coffee. One grows hard. One grows soft. One changes the water.”
“I’m not sure which one is happening to me,” Snow confessed. “But I’m glad you’re here with me.”
Ruby shrugged. “Not sure where else I’d be. Home pretending to be safe?” She waved her hand, indicating the small clearing. “I feel safer here with Wolfe and Tristan than I ever did at home. They’re teaching us to be strong.”
“We’re heading into almost-certain war,” Snow warned her. “I hope we can prevent it, of course, but you’d be a fool not to be afraid.”
“There’s being afraid, and there’s pushing through.” Ruby stared at her hand’s quietly. “May we be strong enough to give peace to our children and our children’s children.”
Snow took her hand in a solemn gesture of solidarity. “Agreed.”.
As they prepared the potatoes and carrots for the soup, Snow looked up at her friend. “This isn’t your fight. Not really. We’re going after my Red and Baron.”
Ruby bristled at the suggestion. “Thistle Grove is my town, too. I lost people I’ve cared about since these sneak attacks began hitting us again. If a twenty-year peace is about to be shattered, I’m as able-bodied as anyone else.”
Snow nodded, reaching out her hand to touch Ruby’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. You’re right.” Tears choked her voice. “I’m scared, I guess. I don’t want to lose anyone else.”
Ruby hugged her. “I know. We all are. But anyone wanting to take over our town makes it my business.” They were quiet as they enjoyed the last bit of solitude they’d have for a while. Tomorrow they were entering into Spellthrower Territory.
“Besides,” Ruby added as they got the food together. “You and Red are like sisters to me. I couldn’t live with my decisions if I stayed home and did nothing.”
Snow felt immediately contrite. “Of course! You’re like a sister to us, too.” She wiped at the tears that marred her cheeks. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like we didn’t want you. Please forgive me.”
Ruby smiled. “Nothing to forgive.” She held out her pinkie. “Sisters before shifters, right?”

Monday, April 9, 2018

Broken bear on sale!

Hey, Cats and Kittens!!

Did you know the wingspan of a redtail hawk typically ranges from 105 to 141 cm (3 ft 5 in to 4 ft 8 in)? That's huge!! And a big hint on the book i'm working on next. :)

But, in case you were hungry for a bear shifter, Her Broken Bear is on sale the next few days for 99c. Super excited about this series of books and I've been brainstorming with some of my team on what's next for the Shifter Special Forces.

So many ideas...

if you haven't already picked one up, this is a fantastic deal on Hunter and Hadley's book.

Join my newsletter!

Friday, April 6, 2018

☆¸.•*¨*★☆ Spring into Romance Hop & Giveaway ☆★*¨*•.¸☆

An incredible group of authors have come together to celebrate spring. Enter our big giveaway on Laid-back Book Promotions then hop along each page and enter each giveaway!!

•.☆.• #Giveaway for this page •.☆.•
•.☆.• To Enter •.☆.•
➜ Show my page some love with a LIKE/FOLLOW
➜ Let your book loving friends know by SHARING MY PAGE and the COMMENT BELOW that you did!
•.☆.• #Hop here next! •.☆.•
➜ •.☆.•
To start at the beginning of the Hop, go here
Make sure you’ve entered the BIG GIVEAWAY ➜…/

Monday, April 2, 2018

Snippet Time Her Mountain Lion Mate

Her Mountain Lion Mate

(on preorder now - go live date April 7.2018!!)


Creole "Cree" James is a powerful, natural-born shifter. As a juvenile, he defended his neighbor and committed a shocking act of violence. After serving his time, they told him she was dead. After drifting for a while, Cree settled into Maxwell Mountains, North Carolina.

Tamara Brennan was on the run and looking for her long-ago savior. After seeing a newspaper article, Tamara knew she'd been lied to. But when she meets up with an adult Creole, he overwhelms her with his restrained power.

Can a shifter who shouldn't exist find love in the arms of a woman he cannot touch? Or will the power of love and the patience of a cat save them both?


“It gets cold in the mountains.” Cree’s strong, deft hands lit a fire in the bedroom hearth. “This will keep you warm.”
“You’re leaving?”
Cree closed his eyes against the need he heard in her voice. The cells in Cree’s body voted to stay with their mate, but his brain was afraid of further rejection. “I think it’s best if I do. It’s enough that you found me. The rest, we can take step by step. Besides, you’re going to look at properties with Hadley and Lacey tomorrow, right?”
Tamara nodded, mutely. Cree desperately wished he could read her mind as easily as he scented her emotions. Fear. Longing. Hurt.
But afraid of what? Longing for whom? Hurt by what?
“Lacey is a force.” Tamara’s hands knotted as she spoke, a sure sign of her anxiety. “She wants me to open a studio like, yesterday.”
Cree forced a smile. “She gets excited. And I don’t think there’s a lot here in the mountains for her to do. She’s a city girl. More at home with movie theaters and shopping malls.”
“She seems to have adjusted just fine.”
Oh, now that was a scent Cree knew blindfolded. Anger. His lips twitched with humor. “Did I say something wrong?”
“You shouldn’t assume that just because someone was raised in a city, they can’t adjust to the mountains.” Tamara’s voice was a little tart, and Cree smiled. His kitten had claws.
Another, darker thought occurred to him. Feeling those claws bite into the muscles of his shoulders. Back. Ass. Cree looked away so Tamara wouldn’t see the raw hunger in his eyes.
“Lacey named the cottage Little Yellow.”
“I noticed the rubber duckie themed bathroom.” Tamara looked out the window and sighed.
“Is everything okay?” Cree would give anything to know what she was thinking.

Tamara nodded slowly. “Are you angry with me? Disappointed?” Her voice dropped to a whisper. 

On pre-order now on Amazon. 
Free on KindleUnlimited