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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

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! •.☆.•
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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

Saturday, March 10, 2018

not that cougar, the other one (snippet time!)

Did you know that the American mountain lions are listed in dictionaries under more names than any other animal in the world? Writer Claude T. Barnes listed 18 native South American, 25 native North American, and 40 English names for the same animal. Depending on the region and native language, common names for the American lion include: mountain lion, cougar, panther, puma, painter, el leon, and catamount.

In Her Mountain Lion Mate, we meet Creole "Cree" James, the only natural born shifter so far (hehe) in the series. I tried to make a title using the word cougar, but in American slang, cougar has a whole different meaning. 

Enjoy this snippet.Her Mountain Lion Mate is with my editors and should be out in a few weeks. In the meantime, don't forget to check out my other books in the series (or any of my series, for that matter!)


Cree felt his hands shake as he prepped a keg for his usual Monday night crowd. Had it finally happened? Had he gone insane? He made a mental note to tell Quinn. An angry mountain lion shifter gone mad could cause untold destruction.

He didn’t want to wait for the government to put him down. If he needed to be killed, Cree wanted Quinn to do it.

Shaking his head, Cree went back to doing the bar back work he relished. He wasn’t as good with people as his bartender Jason was. After prepping the bar, Cree hid in his office the rest of the night, paying bills or searching endlessly for information on Roger Elliot.

As he hauled a case a local microbrew up from the cellar, the tantalizing-but- barely-familiar - scent wafted across the room. Creole shook his head, denial sharp and strong pulsing within him. He knew that scent, but she was dead. He shook his head trying to snap some sanity into his mind.
Cree’s eyes scanned the bar. Nothing moved except the sluggish whir of the ceiling fan. But he knew that sometimes prey hid in plain sight. He was no mindless animal ready to pounce. Instead, he was an experienced warrior.

Tamara was dead. Crushed in a car crash on her birthday, two weeks before Creole was released from the shifter prison he’d been transferred to. As he exited the facility on his 18th birthday, his mother and his handler were there. Greeting him with the news that destroyed him.

Fresh pain pulsed through him in time with his heartbeat. He stacked the beer and rubbed the area across his heart. Would this wound be his constant reminder? His relationship with Tamara began while they were children. But their bond went deeper than childhood. It had its roots in fear, protection, and eventually death.

“Soon,” he promised her ghost. “One day, we’ll be united again.” A calmness settled over him at the idea of Quinn finally putting him out of his misery. If he had to live with this heartbreak every hour of every day for the rest of his life, he’d rather be dead, anyway. 

Saturday, March 3, 2018

Snow: A retelling of Rose-Red and Snow-White (snippet!!)

Snippet Time!!

Snow: A Retelling of Red-Rose and Snow-White by Summer Donnelly

I've always loved the story of Rose-Red and Snow-White, a Grimm fairy tale about two sisters who fall in love with bear shifters. (This Snow is not related to the one with the 7 dwarves.) In German, Schneewittchen is the girl with the dwarves. This Snow was originally called Schneeweißchen)
It's a story I've always wanted to read but could never find one. So, I wrote it myself. 

Come join me in Thistle Grove, a land full of Fables following the War of the Wicked Witches. Per the Treaty of the Wicked Witches, the Fables were removed out of the Woods They've established a town, complete with a bear shifter Baron, his brother, and a big bad wolf-shifter Sheriff. 

Book 1 is available now. Book 2 will be out the end of March. 


Crossing Grimm River on the back of a giant brown bear was an all-new experience for Snow. She giggled, straddling his large back. “This is better than riding a horse,” she announced as he dropped her, safe and sound, on the other side.
Tristan chuffed at her, and she giggled anew. “Aw, poor baby, you don’t like being compared to a horse?
Tristan shook his fur and sprayed river water over her shirt, jerkin, and leather pants. She observed her surroundings as Tristan went back across the river to get Ruby and Avery.
“I can cross on my own, Tristan,” Avery said, his voice deep and growly in the morning.
They had eaten the last of the biscuits that morning and washed them down with icy cold river water. No one knew what was on the horizon, and they were all on edge.
Once they were all on the same side of the Grimm River, Avery led the way. “Castle and cave are to the east.”
“I can’t even see the sun,” Snow said, falling into line. Avery, Ruby, Snow, with Tristan at the rear. “How can you tell east from west?”
“Instincts,” Avery responded. He sniffed the air, seeking his way.
“It’s too quiet,” Tristan warned. “Beware.”
Tension settled into Snow’s shoulders, and she narrowed her eyes. Yards fell, and then miles between the river and where they were. They were deep in the Woodlands now, and hardly a drop of sunlight fell to the forest floor.
After several hours, Avery slowed down. “There’s a berry bush up ahead. Tristan, help me see if they’re okay to eat.”
Tristan chuffed in response. Still keeping an eye on the women, the two shifters sniffed for poisons or spells that may hurt them.
Ruby and Snow spread out a blanket to sit on in a small clearing.
Snow took her throwing knives out of their sheaths. “Let’s practice while we wait,” she suggested. Ruby nodded and took out her own knives.
“Good one,” Ruby congratulated Snow. “You’re getting better!”
“Okay, your turn,” Snow suggested. Ruby eyed up her target and tossed the knife. THWAP. It, too, hit the tree and shuddered in relief.
By the time Avery and Tristan returned with a basket of berries, Ruby and Snow were warm and a little sweaty from their practice session.
“Looking good on the throws,” Avery said with a nod. “Let’s take a break and eat. I think we’ll be outside the forest by dinner. I saw a few rabbits running around. We can set up some snares and hopefully have a brace or two for dinner.”
The small group welcomed their brightly colored feast, although none of them relaxed enough to enjoy their meal. Conversation was subdued, as each waited. Trepidation crept up Snow’s spine and took up permanent residence.
She frowned. Was that a sound?
Snow glanced around, but no one else seemed to notice. “Tristan? Do you hear that?” she asked.
Tristan’s ears perked and his nose lifted. “A dark cloud is traveling towards us.”
The sound grew louder. Snow and Ruby shared a look before getting to their feet. Each pulled their staff out of its scabbard and prepped their knives.
Avery shoved his sleeves up, exposing forearms covered with hair. “It sounds like a stampede or some sort,” he said just before shifting into his wolf form. He howled with the pleasure of being a wolf again.
“What the…” Snow said. “It looks like a storm cloud. But that can’t be.”
“They’re bugs,” Ruby said.
“Gnats,” Tristan corrected.
“Gnats? How can gnats hurt us?” But no sooner were the words out of Snow’s mouth than the bugs swarmed the group.
“My eyes!” Ruby cried out, seconds before she began choking. Weapons were useless. Raw strength was wasted on their tiny foes. They attacked everywhere. Eyes. Ears. Choking them.

Tristan raised his paws, swatting them, but they got in the delicate membranes of his eyes. He blinked. Stopped. Unable to see what he was swiping at, he was a loaded weapon with too many friendly targets around him. 

Saturday, February 17, 2018

You always remember your first Bear

Snippet time!!!

When did you first fall in love with shifters? For me, it was the story of Snow-White and Rose-Red. I was 6 years old when I first read the fairytale. A story about 2 sisters and 2 prince bear shifters. What could be more romantic?

I have tried to do it justice in this debut novel in my Thistle Grove series. This is more adventure than romance. More YA than adult. I'm currently halfway done with its sequel Snow.

From Red

But now, alone in the woods with only a bear and Gaul, Red felt waves of animosity, avarice, and hatred pour off him in waves. She made a mental note to listen to her sister’s intuition more often.
Red swallowed and felt her eyes grow round when she saw Gaul pick up a large rock and place it in the pocket of a slingshot. Was he going to shoot the bear? Anger rose in her. How dare the little man attack the bear? The bear had been enjoying himself and doing whatever bear business bears liked to do in the woods. Why was Gaul intent on harassing the majestic animal?
The bear chuffed and eyed up the little man. The bear rose on his hind legs as if to prove his physical superiority to the measly human. Red’s feet were frozen to the autumn cloaked ground, and her heart beat heavily in her chest as she awaited the outcome of the battle playing out before her. Gaul was no match for the huge bear, but she didn’t understand why the bear hadn’t either charged or run away.
Another bear huffed, and terror replaced her earlier anger at Gaul. Now she was alone in the woods with two bears and a mean, slingshot-wielding man. She scanned around the ground until she found a sturdy stick she could use to defend herself, if needed.
Man and beast continued to eye each other up as Red’s mind scrambled for a way to break the growing tension.

Friday, February 9, 2018

Her Broken Bear - Snippet Time!

Snippet time!!
Her Broken Bear by Summer Donnelly

Answering an emergency call from her best friend, twenty-eight-year-old Hadley Mills runs to Maxwell Mountains, North Carolina. There she meets Hunter, explosives expert and bear shifter. Hadley is able to heal Hunter's body, but his heart and mind are beyond her control.

Thirty-year-old Hunter Bromstad has a broken bear. Sent back from a battle with more internal scars than a man should carry, Hunter can't control his bear. But when he falls in love with a nurse practitioner, his life is turned upside down. Can he learn to control his bear? What about the years of service he still owes the government?

And when a fire breaks out on Maxwell Mountain, will he and Hadley be able to survive the fallout?

I just finished my first round of edits on Her Broken Bear, book 2 in the Shifter Special Forces book series. It's 1am local time and i am both beat and happy. Hunter's story will be looked at by my editors in a day or two and i'll be on time for an early March pub date.

here's a short little (unedited) tease to keep you excited about the new book.

Hadley refused to budge. “Why don’t you tell me about the bear in your cabin. Did you start branching out from cats and dogs into lions and tigers and bears?”
“Oh, my,” Lacey said. “Well, not exactly.” She shook her head. “Okay. But don't freak out, okay? Promise?"
This didn't seem good. Hadley narrowed her eyes. "I'm a nurse, Lacey. Not much freaks me out." But when her friend continued to just look at her, Hadley nodded. "I promise."
Hadley felt her jaw drop in shock. “One came to our high school career day. Are you telling me you have a bear soldier in your cabin?”
“Yes,” Lacey admitted. “His name is Hunter Bromstadt. He’s in a bad way.”
“But how? I mean. Why?” Hadley leaned against the side of her car and ran her fingers through her short blonde hair. “What’s going on?”
Lacey took Hadley’s hand and lead her into the third, slightly shabby and deserted cabin. “Come meet Hunter,” she said. “He’s one of Quinn’s friends.”
Hadley stopped in her tracks. “Is Quinn a bear shifter, too?”
“What? Oh, uh. No. He’s a Mastiff.”
Hadley shook her head, feeling as if she had stepped out of 21st century America and entered the Twilight Zone.
She entered the cabin and held her hand up to her nose. The dark scent of decay and the rank odor of infection slammed against her. “Holy Moses,” she said. The cabin was empty except for an angry brown bear being run herd on by a Mastiff of almost the same size.
“I take it that’s Quinn,” Hadley said.
The massive dog howled and acknowledged her presence.
“Why didn’t you just take him to the hospital? I can smell the infection from here.”
Tears trembled on Lacey’s eyelashes. “He can’t hold his shifts. The hospital might drug him. Might institutionalize him. We can’t let that happen. Not unless we had no choice.”
Hadley took in the scene with practiced eyes. She pulled her script pad from her purse. “Go into town and get these scripts filled.” She wrote down two different types of antibiotics. She ripped the page and handed it to Lacey. “And I need the following items, but you won’t need an Rx for them.”
Lacey nodded. “You’re the best, Had,” she whispered right before she took off.
“Will I be safe?” Hadley asked as she approached her patient.
“I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”
He was operating on instincts. His roars in time with the throbbing of his pulse. The cries of the children an out of tune staccato medley. And the damn cat, icy green eyes daring him to move forward.
Only the dog kept him from hurting people. No. He shook his massive head. Not a dog. A friend. But that couldn’t be right. He didn’t have friends. His friends were dead. As dead as the Qubrian children he’d helped kill.
War after war, they were sent. To countries near and far. Hunter was damn good at his job. Until Qubria. After six months in the Latin American hellhole, he’d been given leave and an appointment with the Shifter Veteran’s Hospital.
Fuck that shit. All he needed was his bear, Bal.
Another scent penetrated his dimmed senses. Delicate. Floral. The sweet scent of roses on a June evening.
Hunter roared. Another scent was in his way. Guarding her. Danger? Was there danger? Bear and human warred for supremacy. 

Tuesday, January 16, 2018

When characters don't behave.

I have two girls I'm writing a story about. A 6 book series of shorts that I'll combine into a boxed set when i'm finally done with them.

Only, the girls don't seem to want to do what i want them to do. I have outlines. A series outline. A plan. And over and over, they surprise me. Tell me something new. Show me a different (admittedly better) path.

But that doesn't mean i have to like it, ladies!!

I love these girls, and I hope you do, too. Drop me a line and let me know what you think!

Here Come the Grifter Sisters

Back to School with the Grifter Sisters

Tuesday, January 2, 2018

Grifters, shifters, and bootleg liquor.

Grifters, shifters, and bootleg liquor.

I hit a stage in my latest novel set in an all new shifter universe (keep an eye out for a cover reveal!) before I headed home for the holidays. I had two of my six (six, what am I, crazy??) grifter sisters books written, and as I drove into town, I passed this old haunted building on Route 94.

I really try not to have three brand new series going at once. But once my brain was caught in the mystry and romance of the Roaring Twenties, I knew it was going to happen. 

Sitting on the edge of the Paulinskill, this beautiful home has been used many times since it was built in the late Victorian era. A private residence. A bed and breakfast. A biker bar. And once, over ninety years ago, it was a speakeasy.

It's a long drive from New Jersey to North Carolina, so I began dreaming of this world of girls in short dresses, guys in black suits, and how a dive bar would fit in Harper's Mill.

A Harper would run it, naturally. They're charmers. Smooth talkers. What better type of men to run an illegal bar?

When I got home, I began researching. Due to its proximity to the Atlantic Ocean (and the St. Lawrence Seaway to the north and Cuba and the Bahamas to the south) New Jersey is perfectly situated for the illegal booze trade. And Harper's Mill, which has the Paulinskil (a minor tributary of the Deleware River) run completely through it, would historically be a great place for a speakeasy.

Now, how do I keep the mobsters from North Jersey and Philadelphia away from tiny Harper's Mill? With a little magic, of course.

Get your glad rags on, pour a Tom Collins, and come join me on a new adventure for my Harper's Mill Historicals.

Hope to see you there.

Here Come the Grifter Sisters