Moon Pack Monday – Elliott 2


Elliott flung the pencil across the room. Planting his face in his hands he rubbed at his temple with his index fingers. The headaches had been worse lately. Even the air held a heavy weight against his skin. He kept his eyes closed to block out the light. Even dimmed the lights pierced his head.

He missed Parker. His mate had gone out of town leaving Elliott alone. It shouldn’t have been a big deal. As an introvert Elliott enjoyed being alone but he preferred to be alone with Parker.

He slid his right hand down to play with the links on his necklace, Parker’s necklace. The jewelry his mate had given so he always knew he was always on Parker’s mind. For a hard-eyed dominant Parker had a gentler side he only shared with Elliott. If he concentrated on Parker he could speak telepathically to his mate but he didn’t know what job Anthony had sent him on and Elliott didn’t dare interrupt Parker during a crucial time. What if he was chasing down a bad guy and Elliott distracted him?

“I knew I should’ve taken you with me.” Parker’s rich voice jerked Elliott out of his deep contemplation.

“Parker.” Elliott jumped up out of the chair, headache vanishing with the sight of his mate. He didn’t think twice before leaping into Parker’s arms.

“Generally I’d expect more decorum but I missed you to.”

Elliott would’ve spoke. Maybe argued in his defense but Parker didn’t seem upset if the hard kiss he pressed against Elliott’s mouth was any indication. Several minutes passed before Parker finished greeting Elliott. He melted against his mate uncaring if someone walked through the door and got an eyeful. They were always watching Elliott askance anyway, worried Parker would crush them if they upset Elliott. He’d tried to tell them Parker wasn’t like that but Parker intimidated more successfully than Elliott persuaded.

“How did the trip go?”

“I hunted down the mutant that was trying to set everything on fire.” Parker’s grim expression had Elliott sighing.

“You had to kill him didn’t you?”

Parker nodded. “There wasn’t any choice. He wasn’t really there any more.”

“I’m sorry.” Elliott knew Parker didn’t enjoy killing. People didn’t understand the toll it took on someone to kill another being.

Parker shrugged. “It took a while to hunt him. That’s why I’ve been gone so long.”

Two days. It shouldn’t have felt like eternity but it could’ve been longer.

“You do what you have to do.” He didn’t want Parker to feel bad about doing his job.

“I’ve talked to Silver and unless it’s an emergency they won’t send me out of town again.”

From their snatched conversations Elliott had learned the mutant had ran and Parker and Thomas had gone to chase after him.

“Thank you.”

Parker easily carried Elliott to the guest chair where he sat down Elliott and all. He pressed a kiss to Elliott’s forehead before he spoke. “Nothing is more important than you.”

Elliott rested his head on Parker’s shoulder. “I love you.”

Parker rubbed his hand along Elliott’s spine. “Love you back. Now let’s get you home and show you how much.”

“My day isn’t over yet?” He had a pile of paperwork he still hadn’t addressed.

“It is now. Anthony agreed to let you take the rest of the day off and all of tomorrow.”

“That was nice of him.” Any other person and Elliott might’ve suspected Parker bullied him into agreeing. No one bullied Anthony. Elliott could leave with a clear conscience. Sliding off Parker’s lap he grinned. “Then let’s go home and enjoy my time off.”

Parker stood and clasped Elliott’s hand. “Let’s.”

Tuesday’s Terrible Teaser…*snicker*

Since I’ve been working on edits I decided to give you a sneak peek of Keys. My first full length book will be out sept/oct

(Shhh don’t tell) If you are part of my private FB group you might’ve seen this before.

*note this is still not officially edited and subject to change*




The clamoring bell from the Lock Tower filtered into my dreams, a loud, obnoxious nudge reminding me to wake up and begin my day. My name is Octavius Septimus Stalk. My friends call me Oss and my enemies hide from my blades. Stab one key keeper for grabbing your ass and you never live down a violent reputation.

The brush of warm lips across my bare shoulder pulled my attention to my bedmate. I always go from slumber to full alert with little space for sluggish-headedness in between. Growing up a street rat gave me certain habits I doubt I’ll ever be able to break. My instant alert ability, the most minor of my infractions, came in handy when my lover wished to give me a proper send-off for the day.

“Morning, love.” Hawthorne Smith, Thorne to me, had a deep voice that shivered down my spine like vibrations from the tolling of the Tower bell. I’d stood next to it once while it rang, hiding out from guards. They’d stopped their pursuit at the bottom of the stairs—wiser than me I suspect, and happy to keep their hearing. Two days later my eardrums were still ringing.

Thorne had a similar effect on me. I could still feel his hands roaming my body days after we’ve made love. He’s lasted the longest of any of my partners, if rushed gropings in a dark alley counted as partners. Thorne has assured me it doesn’t. He’s certain I need no one else and is determined to keep me sated enough I seek no others.

“Morning.” I don’t repeat the endearment. I’ve grown fond of Thorne in the three months we’ve been warming each other’s beds, but love took longer than that or it should. I don’t know anyone in love so it is only guesswork on my part. Growing up on the streets didn’t lend itself to being a trusting, loving person. My cold nature has scared off more than one potential lover before we’d even reached a properly dark bit of street to relieve some tension.

Thorne traced a finger down my back. My body jerked like a marionette dancing along a string. My lover knew how to be a proper puppet master. Groaning, I pushed back into his touch. I craved my man. Deep down I hoped to keep him, but I buried that ambition in the darkest corner of my mind along with all my other dreams and expectations. The Lord of the Keys didn’t easily grant scrubby key keepers their heart’s desire. If Thorne stayed mine until the next quarter cycle, I’d consider myself blessed.

“Hey, did you go back to sleep?” Thorne rolled me onto my back. I smiled at the vision above me.

I dare anyone to wake up to that face and not feel their heart hiccup at the sight. Thorne had the golden tan of a city guard. The sun didn’t just kiss Thorne, it used its tongue and devoured him in its shiny embrace. Thorne’s skin had the burnished glow only a man working outdoors could acquire and hard, thick muscles from pulling himself up rope ladders to reach the dirigible ships.

Becoming a guard took dedication, and Thorne had only one more level before he reached Master of the Guard. Pride for him had my lips parting in a smile.

“I was thinking of you.” I winced over my words. They sounded far more foolish aloud than drifting through my head.

“Good. I want you to always think about me.” Thorne’s green eyes sparkled down at me like the rare glass in the church windows. He grabbed my hips and dragged me closer as if he couldn’t stand the two inches of space between us.

I melted a bit at his show of strength. I had always prized my smaller form for my ability to squeeze through tiny spaces, but I didn’t wish the same shape for my lover. I preferred my bedmates big and strong. The green eyes and cocky smile were optional but greatly appreciated. Inhaling deeply, I breathed in his scent of cinnamon and sunshine, an odd combination but one I always thought of when near my lover.

“Does your ego weigh you down when you climb up the ladders?” I asked, sliding my hand across his furred chest. Thorne had the body of a man not like my smooth skin that refused to sprout more than a few random hairs.

Thorne flexed an arm. “My muscles compensate.”

I laughed.

Happy Birthday Jambrea!


Anthony rushed down the stairs. “Silver, have you seen Trin?”

Silver set down his pen. “No. Is he missing?”

“Not missing so much as I’m not sure where he is. It doesn’t help that he can flash from place to place.” Sometimes having a magically gifted child took more care than ten others.

“Did you hide his presents?”

“Yes, but he keeps sniffing them out.” Anthony threw himself onto Silver’s couch.

Silver stood and came over to join him. He sat down beside Anthony. “He’s a curious pup.”

“Which means it’s hard to keep secrets from him.” Anthony couldn’t stop smiling when he thought of Trin. He adored their child.

“Has Henry had a chance to finish the cake?” Silver wrapped an arm around Anthony and pulled him closer.

Anthony rested against his mate’s side, snuggling in close. “He let Trin pick the flavor and the icing.”

“And what are we in for?”

“Chocolate cake, chocolate pudding filling, with chocolate ganache as the icing. If we don’t all die of sugar poisoning I’ll consider it a successful day.”

Silver laughed. “He’s quite the character. I can’t believe he’s turning three.”

Anthony sighed. “He’s thirty in god years. Like puppy years but multiply by ten.”

“He’ll be running a pack before we know it.”

“Or the world.”

“Or the world,” Silver agreed.

“I feel old.” Anthony couldn’t explain the bone deep exhaustion chasing him lately.

“You just need a vacation. What do you say we go on a trip next month? Get away from all of our worries.”


Silver shrugged. “Does it matter?”

Anthony thought of all the possible locations they could run away to then shrugged. “I guess not.”

Trin flashed into the room and landed on Silver’s lap. “Daddy, daddy!”

“Hi Trin.” Silver grabbed his son before he fell to the ground.

Trin’s cheeks, chin, and a good portion of his shirt were covered in chocolate.

“You were supposed to wait until after dinner to have your cake,” Anthony scolded.

“But it was good.” Trin grinned, treating them to the sight of his chocolate coated teeth.

“Well you’ll have to wait for your presents.”

Trin’s lower lip slid out. “That’s what grandpa Zeus said.”

Anthony sighed. “Figured out where I hid them did you?”

Trin nodded. “But I promised grandpa I’d stop looking because he said you’d take them all back.”

Anthony wouldn’t but if that little lie stopped his son from getting into his presents he’d go along with it. “What are we going to serve everyone now that you’ve eaten the cake?”

“Henry made two.” He held up two sticky crumb covered fingers.

“Smart man,” Silver said.

Anthony agreed. They said it takes a village to raise a child. In Trin’s case it took a pack of wolves and a wily god. Still, Anthony wouldn’t change anything about his son. “Go play. I’ll call you when it’s time for dinner.”

“Okay. Grandpa said he’d take me to ride a Pegasus.”

Before they could say anything else, Trin vanished.

“We should probably be concerned about that.” Anthony noted the chocolate streak across Silver’s shirt and grinned.

Silver followed his gaze. “Damn, want to come upstairs and help me change.”

Anthony laughed. “Sure, you might want to shower too. Chocolate can be hard to get off.”

Silver stood and pulled Anthony up after him. “Sounds like a two man job.”

Anthony slid his arm through Silver’s. “I’ve always preferred it that way.”

With a move similar to his son’s, Anthony transported them to the bedroom.

Out Now!

His Beautiful Beast 400x600

Now available at the usual suspects. My site, Amazon and ARe. This was once on the blog but I did change the ending because I didn’t like the first one as much . If you haven’t read it this is my nod to Beauty and the Beast or in this case he’s sort of the same person :)


Jonah Croft paced his office. He didn’t pay any attention to the panoramic water view out his window or the beauty of the crisp fall day. It might as well have been pouring outside for all he cared. His love had abandoned him. Two weeks had gone by, and still no contact. His calls were ignored, and Sammy still hadn’t returned to his apartment. Jonah had checked, he’d had others check, hell he’d even hired a useless detective who hadn’t been able to track Sammy down.

Fourteen days, ten hours and—Jonah checked his Rolex—fifteen minutes had passed since their argument, and Sammy still hadn’t returned. He knew Sammy had been irritated over Jonah’s insistence they move in together, but was it Jonah’s fault Sammy had a rod up his ass about being self-sufficient? It wasn’t like Jonah didn’t have enough money to support twenty musicians if he wanted. Why did Sammy care so much about being independent? Independence sucked if it kept Sammy out of Jonah’s bed.

A knock on his office door interrupted his furious marching back and forth. “Come in.”

He raised his eyebrows at the excited expression on his secretary’s face. “There’s a Mr. Allen to see you.”

Jonah’s heart skipped a beat. “Send him in.” Maybe the detective had discovered Sammy’s location. He shoved away the inner voice whispering that he’d moved from concerned boyfriend and into stalker territory.

The detective shuffled into the room. Everything about the man had the air of something faded, as if his best days had passed him by more than a few years ago. Even his face fell into a bulldog’s wrinkled folds.

“Did you find him?” He didn’t bother with pleasantries; he needed results.

Allen nodded, briefly distracting Jonah with his wobbling chin. “We found the house you told us about. It’s an estate in the Olympics. Under the name Vinzeno Strassford.”

“Yes, Strassford is the name he gave me.” Jonah clutched at the slender strands of hope with greedy fingers.

Allen pulled a notebook out of his pocket. “Mr. Strassford appears to still live there, but it’s not in the best shape. Your boyfriend’s rental car was found on the side of the road not far from Strassford’s estate. That and the name connection make me think I found the right place.”

Jonah frowned. Had Sammy run into a problem? Had something happened to him? “Was the car damaged? Did he have an accident?”

“No, it looked like some kind of mechanical failure.”

“Did you see him at the Strassford estate?”

“No, I can’t get close enough.” The detective went back to his notes. “The mansion sits pretty far from the road, and no one ever goes in or out of the gates—they’re padlocked. I checked around and no one has seen Strassford for years.”

“Then how do you know Strassford’s still there?”

“According to the local grocery, he has an order delivered twice a month and they have instructions to leave it by the gate.”

Jonah resisted the urge to snatch Allen’s notebook out of his hand and search it for further clues. “Thank you for the information. I’ll take it from here.”

The detective nodded. “I’ll write up a formal report. I thought you’d want to know what I found out as soon as possible.”

“Yes, thank you.” Jonah ran his index finger along the edge of his desk. Sammy tended to be an enthusiastic person who threw himself into everything without thinking about future consequences. Lost in his thoughts, he barely acknowledged the detective leaving.

What have you gotten yourself into, Sammy?

ow a

Moon Pack Monday

Jager grimaced at the stain on his shirt. That’ll teach him to wrestle with a tiger shifter right before a date with his lover.

“Sorry Jag,” Dare’s apologetic smile swept away Jager’s anger.

“I shouldn’t have said your Jello shots were too watery.”

That comment had led to a food fight and Jager’s damaged shirt.

“Well I guess they were since I could toss them at you.” Dare grinned.

Jager laughed. Even covered in cherry and lime food coloring he couldn’t hold his annoyance with the tiger shifter. Dare’s easy-going nature made him a hard man to hold a grudge against. His brother Ryder didn’t have the same calm temperament.

“What’s going on here?” Ryder’s voice thundered across the empty bar as if on cue. Things didn’t improve when the large tiger shifter skidded on one of the more solid globs of gelatin.

“Sorry love. We were testing out if Dare’s shots had hardened.”

Dare’s helpless giggles had Ryder sending his brother a disgusted look.

Jager slid his hand down Ryder’s arm. “I’ll run upstairs and change before we go out. It won’t take long. Maybe you can come help me.”

Ryder scowled and folded his arms over his chest. Some people might be fooled by the stern expression and bulging muscles but not Jager. He stepped up to his mate and pressed his stained chest against the large tiger shifter. “You could come help me change.”

He turned on his heel and headed for the elevators. A low growl behind him made him smile. He didn’t turn around. Ryder would follow. His tiger shifter always followed. Leaving his pack was possibly the best decision Jager had ever made. It had certainly led to him finding his heart.

He’d barely made it to their apartment and unlocked the door before Ryder pushed him inside. “Strip.”
Jager spun around, slowly unbuttoning each pearly button one by one. He made a show of revealing patches of skin in a slow display.

Ryder sat on the couch and motioned for Jager to continue stripping. “This is better than going out.”

“Don’t think this means you don’t have to take me to dinner.” Jager had been anticipating a night on the town with Ryder all week. He’d been busy working for the past ten days straight and needed time with his mate.

After a bit of persuasion from his favorite designers Jager had agreed to do a few more modeling shoots. Although he no longer had to bring in money to support his old pack he liked to feel useful. When he wasn’t modeling he did guard duty. For both positions his tiger shifter followed him around like his personal bodyguard.

“I’ll take you out after I fuck you over the couch.” Ryder’s eyes glowed, the inner tiger prowling behind the human façade and ready to claim its mate.

“Promises, promises.” Ryder continued to pull off his clothes. He’d stripped off his shirt then straddled his lover’s thick thighs. “It’s only my shirt that was damaged, my love.”

A loud ripping noise preceded Ryder tossing the scraps of Jager’s pants onto the floor. “Oops.”

Jager gasped. “I liked those.”

“You can get more.” Ryder’s indifference to Jager’s clothing just made him love him more. His mate didn’t care if Jager was pressed perfect or if his hair was styled in the latest fashion Ryder cared for the man beneath the polish.

“I can.” Jager had many designer friends, they all were more than happy for Jager to wear their clothes.

“Good.” Ryder nuzzled Jager’s neck, nipping at the tender flesh.

Jager groaned then gave himself up to his mate’s desires.

Maybe they could go out tomorrow night instead.

The Changing Years!

outMy book with has been released. This is the story about a man who gets custody of his teenage son. The teen is going through his changing years where werewolf transformation is possible. Since his son is half human as is the primary character he has to come up with a way to deal with his son’s aggression. In this short story I delve into parenthood (pay special attention to the aggressive teen hormonal parts. I modeled that after my own teen! LOL!)

The buy link if you are interested is here.


Grant Thornlin poured over the paperwork before him. Shit, he had too much going on to deal with a human trying to get his kid into the pack school. Each time he added a new member it seemed to triple his number of headaches. If it were just the kids it would be one thing but the parents tended to be the ones that needed all the attention. Dealing with a new parent, much less a human one, could only lead to trouble. He’d only agreed to meet with Mr. McKellan because he couldn’t resist his curiosity. Half shifters were incredibly rare. Most shifter/human bondings ended in no children. It was difficult for shifters to get pregnant by their true mates, much less by someone not bound in the way of the shifter.

He hoped McKellan didn’t take the rejection too hard. Grant had taken over the principal’s office for this visit. He visited the school regularly to check up on younger pack mates. The principal Dan Sonlan and all of the teachers had taken the day off for some sort of in service training, allowing Grant to usurp his space. It was only him and a skeleton staff.

The phone buzzed.

He pushed the intercom button.

“Mr. McKellan is here for you sir,” Joyce, the school receptionist said. She’d been in that seat for twenty years and Grant didn’t think she’d ever taken a day off. He offered her a vacation day once and from her expression he might as well have offered to skin her wolf. The subject was never brought up again.

“Send him in.” He pushed the button to disconnect the call.

The door opened and Grant’s breathing stopped. It took him a few minutes to get it started again.


A slender man with dirty-blond hair and pale-blue eyes entered the room. Grant had never seen that color in a human before. His inner wolf howled its approval. Pushing the beast down, he fought for control. Never before had a man drawn his wolf’s attention. Sure he’d looked at a passing gorgeous man or woman but not like this. Not with the urge to pounce, mark and call a man his own.

“Hello, are you Alpha Thornlin?” His soft melodic voice rolled across Grant, stroking his inner wolf.

Would it be bad form to fuck him against the wall?

“Yes, you must be Mr. McKellan.” Grant cleared his throat then stood, grateful for his long suit jacket. If he’d dressed in more casual clothes his erection would’ve been visible. He walked around the desk and held out his hand. A roller coaster of nerves did loop de loops in his stomach.

“Nice to meet you.” McKellan slid his hand into Grant’s. Desire shot between the palms, a lightning bolt of need and want. A whimper threatened to come out but he beat it back into submission. Alphas didn’t make pitiful, needy noises like newly shifted wolves.

“Please have a seat.” He motioned to the chair opposite from him and quickly took his seat, mindful of the comforting barrier of the desk. The more things between them the less likely he’d take the innocent human to the floor and start humping him.

Crap, this isn’t good!