Month: August 2017

Red and her Wolfe
Blythe Reid
Publication date: August 8th 2017
Genres: Adult, Romance

They call me The Wolfe.

I hunt women the way a wolf hunts lambs.

And I just found my latest prey. She’s a long way from home. We meet on the plane. And there’s nothing as vulnerable as a girl who’s homesick after her first trip abroad.

The girls I’m used to want my money and my looks.

This girl is too innocent for either of those things.

She wants me because of the way we lock eyes. The way we instantly hit it off. The way we seem to have been made for each other.

And I want her because I’m The Wolfe.

I hunt innocent young women like her.

It’s what I do.

#Hot #Sexy #Alpha

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—

EXCERPT:

My feet were curled beneath me as I leaned back against my pillows. I opened my book to the marked page and smiled to myself. With my schoolwork and chores, I couldn’t read as much as I wished. It had been almost two weeks since I last opened Flames of Sorrow.

No one understood my love for romance novels, but I was obsessed. They were my one escape, my way of stepping away from reality. When I read, I believed in soul mates and passionate love. I could experience exciting things through the characters in these books.

Flames of Sorrow was about a couple who were doomed to spend eternity apart. They were both immortal and therefore, destined to live forever. The only negative was that they could never be together. If they so much as looked at each other, they each began to develop a horrible illness.

Still, they managed to spend one day together every five years. If they kept their time together limited, they wouldn’t get sick. One day was never enough, but it was all they had. They were willing to risk everything simply to be together. I’d read Flames of Sorrow many times before, but I always came back to it. To me, it embodied the definition of true love. They loved each other with a passion I’d never known. Plus, the sex scenes were amazing.

I found myself hiding in my room late at night, reading the scenes to myself, imagining what it would feel like to act them out with a man. I knew it was just a fantasy, something I could only dream about enjoying one day. Still, it was my fantasy, and it got me through my mundane life.

As I read, I lost myself in the pages. I became Annabella, faithfully waiting for Diego to find his way back to me. I was her and she was me. In those moments, I became one with my book, and I loved every single second of it. Until my mother entered my room without knocking and pulled me back to reality with a painful thump. I jumped, shutting the book quickly and looking at her attentively. My nerves were immediately on edge. My mother didn’t approve of my extracurricular activities, and she made her opinions known every chance she got. “Scarlet,” Mom said, shaking her head. “Why on Earth are you wasting your time with this nonsense?”

“I like it,” I said with a shrug. Her disapproval bothered me, but I tucked the book under my pillow all the same. If it was out of sight, she would forget about it quickly.

Claire Timms was not your typical mother. She was more protective than anyone else in the world. Having been homeschooled most of my life, I was ecstatic to start college, but my mother made sure I didn’t leave home. Instead, I attended the local college and took classes there.

I tried to persuade my mom to let me move into a dorm room, but she refused. She said it was too dangerous, that I would be exposed to horrible things. I didn’t know enough to argue with her, but deep down, I thought she was wrong. I saw the fun college students had, and I was desperate to partake. “You’ve read it a thousand times,” Mom said, rolling her eyes.

“Not that many,” I said. “Besides, I’ve been so busy lately, I haven’t had time to read anything. Now that school’s over, I can finally enjoy myself again.” “You can,” she admitted with a nod. “Bu, you need to pick better ways to spend your time. Those novels just fill your head with all kinds of fantasies, Scarlet. They aren’t real. Men like that, they just don’t exist.” “Maybe they do,” I said softly. “Somewhere.”

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The Wolf of Kisimul Castle
Heather McCollum
Published by: Entangled Publishing
Publication date: August 14th 2017
Genres: Adult, Historical, Romance

Mairi Maclean is kidnapped on her wedding day by the enemy of her dead husband. Taken north to the water-surrounded Kisimul Castle, she is held captive in the name of retribution. But The Wolf of Kisimul Castle soon learns Mairi is not a docile pawn in this game of war between neighboring

Scots. Nor will she be frightened into walking down the aisle to wed the fierce Highland chief.

Alec MacNeil is set on revenge. When he finds his enemy dead, he takes his wife to replace the one that was murdered. An eye for an eye. A bride for a bride. But Mairi is more tiger than kitten and refuses to bend to his will. Set stubbornly against one another, the passion that flares between them threatens to tear Alec’s strategy to shreds.

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—

EXCERPT:

He crossed to the window without a word and looked out at the courtyard, his eyes scanning beyond. “Where is everyone?” he asked. “At the chapel, I assume,” she said, stepping closer. He probably smelled of sweat or ale. She inhaled. Nay. She smelled pine and the sea and fresh air on him.

He turned, and she rubbed her nose to hide the action of sniffing him. His gaze dropped to her as if her nearness surprised him. “We will go,” he said.

Mairi sighed. “I won’t have Geoff wondering if I would have failed his test, so go ahead.” She let her eyes flutter shut and waited. “Go ahead?” he repeated, and she blinked open.

“Aye,” she said, starting to feel foolish. “Kiss me, if ye’re going to. Otherwise take me to the chapel.”

The only change in the man’s devilishly handsome face was a slight rise in his brows, his clear blue-gray eyes widening the smallest amount. Those damnably tempting lips opened and closed, and his gaze drifted to the shut door before returning to her. He stared at her, as if he were delving into her thoughts. The idea shook Mairi, and she frowned.

“Well, if ye’re not—”

The man wrapped his hand around her arm, slowly reeling her in with constant, gentle pressure until she had to tip her head back to see his face. He radiated authority and determination, as if he could order the mountains to move, yet chose to hold her instead. Her heart hammered in her chest as he set his hand on her cheek. “A kiss, and then we go,” he murmured, moving his thumb across her jaw.

She had time for only a quick inhale as he descended. Mairi had expected a bruising press of his mouth like Geoff had given her when he’d asked her to wed. But this man’s kiss was gentle and warm. With slight pressure, he tipped her head to seal their lips together, moving against her as if tasting an aged whisky. Heat flowed down through

Mairi, wiping away all rational thought. Her knees numbed, but the man seemed to accept her weight easily as he held her against his hard body. His height made him loom over her, but Mairi felt safely surrounded by power instead of fearful. Her fingers reached behind his head to feather through his wavy hair. They were still woven in the dark mass when he gently pulled back, ending the most sensuous kiss Mairi had ever experienced. What bloody foolishness was Geoff thinking? Her traitorous body begged for more, but she stepped back, hands to her flushed skin above her low neckline. The man adjusted himself through his kilt, proving that he too had been affected by the kiss.

“Who are ye?” she asked.

 

Author Bio:

Heather McCollum is an award winning, historical and contemporary YA paranormal romance writer. She earned her B.A. in Biology from the University of Maine, much to her English professor’s dismay. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, won the 2015 Readers’ Crown, and was a 2009 Golden Heart Finalist. Ms. McCollum has twelve historical romances released in both electronic and digital formats. She also has three YA paranormal romances released in both formats.

When she is not busy writing and answering calls of “Mom”, she can be found educating women about ovarian cancer. She is a teal warrior herself and slayed the ovarian cancer beast in 2012.

She currently resides with her very own Highland hero and three spirited children in the wilds of suburbia on the mid-Atlantic coast.

More information about Ms. McCollum and her books can be found at http://www.HeatherMcCollum.com.

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First Step Forward
Liora Blake
(Grand Valley #1)
Published by: Pocket Books
Publication date: November 29th 2016
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Pro-football player Cooper Lowry is off the field and into some trouble—in the form of a very alluring, very free-spirited apple orchard owner named Whitney Reed—in the first installment in Liora Blake’s all new Grand Valley series.

After eight seasons playing pro-football, Cooper Lowry knows all the right answers.

Is he stubborn, short-tempered, and impatient? Yes. Are jersey chasers more trouble than they’re worth? Absolutely. Has he ever imagined a life beyond the game? Nope.

Cooper has built an enviable career—the result of staying focused, working hard, and keeping his head on straight—even as his body takes the brunt. So when a hard hit during a Sunday home game leaves him in a dazed heap on the field, it’s nothing more than another day at the office. The only thing that’s different about this Sunday is a chance encounter with a certain fascinating, beautiful free-spirited woman. And some sternly-worded instructions from his coach to take a little time off and give his body the TLC it craves—before he does lasting damage.

Whitney Reed is a few months away from losing the organic fruit orchard she bought three years ago in the tiny town of Hotchkiss, Colorado. At the time, she was just looking for a place to get lost. Instead, she found a home, somewhere she could finally put down roots. Now foreclosure is knocking on her door—along with a grumpy, gorgeous football player who might be just what she never knew she needed.

A charming love story for romance and sports fans alike, First Step Forward is a sexy, heartwarming romp perfect for readers of Jennifer Probst, Kristan Higgins, and Julie James.

—

Second Chance Season
Liora Blake
(Grand Valley #2)
Published by: Pocket Books
Publication date: June 20th 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Return to Liora Blake’s Grand Valley series with Second Chance Season, in which an avowed country boy with a family duty meets an ambitious city girl with even bigger goals and who shows him just what he’s been missing.

Garrett Strickland is unapologetically country, fiercely loyal, and perfectly happy with his job at the Hotchkiss Co-op. Garrett is all about living in the present and not dwelling in the past—even if he was once on his way to a lofty agricultural sciences degree that would guarantee the brightest of futures, only to end up back home when his old man died, leaving behind a debt-ridden family farm that was impossible to keep afloat. After that, it was easy to see why dreaming big wasn’t worth the heartache. And until he crosses paths with a city girl who’s hell-bent on kick-starting her own future, he’s sure that good enough is just that.

Cara Cavanaugh is ready for more from life, even if that means changing everything; including dumping her boyfriend of ten years, turning down a lucrative job at a major newspaper, and leaving behind the upscale suburbs of Chicago where she grew up. Now, she just has to pray that temporarily relocating to the middle of nowhere in Colorado will be the first step in building a career as a freelance journalist—all she has to do is prove she’s got what it takes to make a name for herself. Unfortunately, her tony country day school is as close to “country” as she’s ever been. But when a goodhearted guy who looks like he just stumbled out of a country music video offers to help, she ends up falling hard…and discovering that the perfect story is a love story. And it’s theirs.

Second Chance Season, book two in the Grand Valley series, is a charming, feel-good romance, perfect for fans of Jennifer Probst and Kristan Higgins.

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—

EXCERPT
SECOND CHANCE SEASON

Despite her excitement over the upcoming Hotchkiss booster event, as we walk out to the truck, I’m on edge, waiting for the inevitable browbeating I’m sure she‟ll eventually remember to give me. Whitney does not disappoint.

“Just out of curiosity, was that necessary?” “What?”

I drop the tailgate on my truck. I know exactly what she’s talking about, but this feels like the kind of moment when you play dumb for as long as you can.

She won’t understand. She can’t possibly understand what it feels like to be a guy, fall for a woman harder than a box of rocks off a skyscraper, and hate having any other man within a three-state radius of her. It isn’t about trust or lack thereof, it isn’t about thinking she isn’t capable of handling herself—she can, because she’s amazing. And, all her amazingness is part of the problem. Amazing women are amazing. Men like amazing.

She sighs. “The whole ‘I’m here now’ bullshit. Garrett’s a good kid. I emphasize the word kid. There wasn’t any need to stick a flag in the ground next to my feet and proclaim my body to be a sovereign state recently claimed by you and your man-parts.”

I set the dormant oil in the bed and close the gate, then gesture for her to move around the side of the truck.

“I’m sure he is a good kid. But he’s also thought about bending you over the front counter in there and giving you his own personalized seed report, babe.”

As I open the passenger-side door for her, she freezes and screws her face up.

“There are so many things wrong with that statement. ‘Seed report’? Gross. He hasn’t ever thought about that.”

“He’s a guy. You’re a beautiful, interesting woman who, I guarantee, is totally different from what he’s used to. Different and unique fascinates us—and intrigues our dicks. So he’s absolutely thought about it.”

I sweep my hand toward her seat to urge her to get in the truck. She narrows her eyes and pins her gaze on me. I sigh. “What?”

“You’ve been such a Neanderthal over the last few days. First, the no-riding-shotgun thing, and now this. That’s also the third time you’ve called me ‘babe’. And I can‟t quite figure out how I feel about that.” She takes a step forward, putting one foot on the running board, but doesn’t climb in. “I think I should hate it, but I’m not sure. Say it again.”

I lean forward. “Get your cute ass in the truck, babe. I’ll turn your seat on.”

“Shit.” She climbs in and shakes her head. “I think I kind of like it. Look at me. Sitting in this ridiculous truck, just thrilled at the prospect of you turning on my heated seat, and my belly all topsy-turvy because you called me ‘babe’. Get me home. I feel a sudden need to burn some incense and renew my Sierra Club membership.”

Author Bio:

Liora Blake is a contemporary romance author living in Colorado.

When she isn’t writing, she’s likely baking cookies she shouldn’t eat, inventing elaborate excuses to avoid going for a run, or asking the nice barista to sell her another quad-shot Americano.

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The Last Dragon Rider
Errin Krystal
(The Wild Realms of Véneanár, #1)
Published by: The Wild Rose Press
Publication date: August 9th 2017
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance

Trained as an elite warrior from childhood, the elven crown prince Flintathriël fights to bring a stop to a war that began before he was born. With the aid of his betrothed Sairalindë, a skilled mage and dragon rider in her own right, they must find the Book of Souls – an ancient and mysterious tome rumored to have belonged to the god Hath’Raal.

When the missing book turns up in the hands of Mnuvae, the bastard child of the dead king, Flintathriël finds himself fighting to not only save his people from this new threat but also trying to keep Sairalindë safe when Mnuvae takes over the dragons in her attempt to win back the kingdom she believes is rightfully hers.

The love Flintathriël and Sairalindë share shines pure and true, but when the smoke of the battle clears, will their hearts survive the aftermath of war or will their love become a casualty that cannot be revived?

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—

EXCERPT:

She began wrapping the cloth tightly about her, binding her breasts firmly, criss-crossing the gauzy fabric around her torso and across her stomach, tying it off at her hip. She shimmied into a pair of leather leggings and reached for her foot wraps. To other races—like the dwarves and humans—the elves lack of footwear was strange. The elven people had strong ties to the lands, their magic and mystique were inexplicably linked. Even those who did not practice magic felt the connection to nature, and the elven people had maintained the practice throughout their long history.

After binding her feet and leaving only her toes exposed, she tossed an olive green tunic over her head before quickly weaving her tresses into a thick braid.

Sivath was waiting, and Flintathriël was late. Again.

She was reaching for her leather jerkin when he finally appeared in her doorway.

Arms akimbo, he slouched against the frame, all lean muscle and sharp angles beneath his leathers. Silver-white hair fell across his forehead, hiding the dark arches of his brows as he gazed at her with silvery blue eyes. The mop of hair barely touching his shoulders. His coloring typical of the royal family.

Her gaze traced his tattoos. Sweeping vines encompassed runic symbols, curling downward from his bottom lip, winding and weaving their way down his chin and neck. She knew every line that twisted and spread across his shoulders, and across his back. Etchings that disappeared beneath his tunic and reappeared along his arms. She still remembered the day he received the markings, branding him Nuvian. The day she first gave herself to him, the day she truly became his.

Author Bio:

Errin Krystal is a fantasy romance writer who has been writing since she was a small child. Her head has always been full of stories. She began work on her first novel when she was sixteen.

She lives with her family in regional Victoria, Australia, and works as a chef. In her quieter moments, she loves to indulge her passion for storytelling, basking in the joy that comes from creating vibrant characters, fantastical worlds and all manner of magical creatures. Dragons and elves, mages and warriors, troubled princes and beautiful princesses, romance, magic, and adventure can all be found in her writing.

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Dominion Rising Collection
Publication date: August 8th 2017
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Science Fiction

Find all the Sci-Fi and Fantasy reads you’ve been craving in one fantastic set!

Whether it’s alien invasion or dark fairytales, heart-pounding galactic adventures or cyberpunk romance, Dominion Rising will satisfy with a thrilling mix of 23 BRAND NEW novels set in fantastical realms. Sword and sorcery, far-flung galactic empires, alternative history, epic magic, slipstream futures: this collection of carefully selected, exclusive novels is sure to please and delight readers of speculative fiction.

Over five thousand pages packed with aliens, faeries, vampires, gargoyles, warriors, telepaths, space pirates, starship captains, hapless mercenaries, street urchins, robots, cyber-enhanced humans, badass heroines, and lost princesses.

Dominion Rising brings you a galaxy of talented authors, including New York Times bestselling authors Gwynn White, Margo Bond Collins, Tom Shutt, Felix R. Savage and Erin St Pierre; USA Todaybestselling authors P.K. Tyler, Anthea Sharp, S.M. Schmitz, K.J. Colt, Dean F. Wilson, Lisa Blackwood, Marilyn Peake, JC Andrijeski and Erin Hayes; and award-winning and Amazon bestselling authors S.M. Blooding, Melanie Karsak, Timothy C. Ward, Daniel Arthur Smith, Tony Bertauski, Rebecca Rode, Cheri Lasota, Ann Christy, Becca Andre, Logan Snyder, Ella Summers, and Best American Science Fiction and Fantasy notable Samuel Peralta.

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Symphony of Ruin
Christina Lay
Publication date: July 25th 2017
Genres: Dark Fantasy, Fantasy

Death is stalking The City. From out of the catacombs, a deadly monster has arisen. Unfortunately for alchemist’s apprentice Remy the Rat Boy, his master is away and it’s up to Remy to discover the nature of the monster and put an end to its killing rampage. His search for answers takes him high into the elegant chambers of the city’s elite, and down into long forgotten ruins, into depths untraveled and unimagined for centuries. Lost in the ancient ruins with only ghosts and creatures of the darkness for companionship, Remy must use every ounce of wit and conjure every scrap of magic at his disposal in order to survive the labyrinth and save The City from its shadow self.

—

A magical and thrilling journey by award-winning author Christina Lay, inspired by the game and artwork of Dungeon Solitaire: Labyrinth of Souls. For more information on the Labyrinth of Souls fiction project, visit shadowspinnerspress.com

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—

EXCERPT:

Death made its nightly rounds of the old quarter. Skeletal toes scraped the cobblestones and bones rattled in the keening wind blowing down from the steppes. The scythe of oblivion spared no one; man, woman or child might be snatched. This alone was reason enough to raid Master Marek’s pantry and Remy could think of several others as he cleared a space on the long table against the wall. He placed one knee on the well-worn surface and tested its strength. The table wobbled only slightly on uneven legs.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” his friend Glyn asked from behind him.

“Not only is it good, it is excellent. Top notch. One of the best I’ve ever had.” Remy grabbed at the row of shelves to steady himself as he climbed up. The collection of bottles and jars rattled alarmingly. He paused as they settled. Nothing fell except a tuft of what looked like dried moss.

When he’d first moved in, Remy would have needed to use a footstool to reach the tabletop and he’d have to stand on the rickety table to reach Marek’s stash of quality liquor. Now if he stretched full length, he could finger the row of colored glass bottles on the top shelf while still on his knees.

Some of the bottles were filled with dyed water. He knew this because he was the one who’d drained and refilled them. His master never noticed because Marek rarely partook of the odd offerings of beet brandy, moss wine, crabapple cider and so on that his clients sometimes paid him with. No, Marek reserved his imbibing for the good stuff in the cut crystal decanter, an amber brandy he shared with Remy on Winter’s solstice, and then only by the wee thimble full.

Remy remembered its heat coating his throat, the flavors of caramel, loam and wealth, and the comforting affect a mere sip had on his state of mind. That was what he needed now—comfort. Glyn had just brought him the news of their mate Abernath’s death. Abernath, a robust young man of seventeen years—the same age as Remy and Glyn—had been found dead in an alley the night before without a fresh mark on him.

Remy’s long fingers tweezed the decanter toward the edge of the shelf. Glyn took an audible breath, sucking air out of the room in the process, braced to flee at the first hint of disaster. Glyn would rather face death than Master Marek in a rage.

“Marek is in the Giant Mountains,” Remy assured him, voice a little pinched from the effort of stretching to his full length and a tiny bit beyond. “I’ve had no word from him for weeks. He’s not about to pop up in the middle of the night with no notice. He likes his fire to be lit and his supper warm when he returns from a long trip.” The decanter tipped forward and Remy caught it with his other hand. As he eased back his sleeve caught on a jutting handle and brought a little pot thudding to the tabletop. The pottery cracked. Something black and viscous oozed out.

“Ox balls,” Remy muttered, and clambered down from the table.

“What is that?” Glyn backed up as if a jinn might spring forth from the ooze.

“Nothing to worry about,” Remy said. He gave the scratch marks on the lid a closer look. Ox balls and a pig’s poker to boot. “Nothing to worry about immediately anyway. Come on. Where’s your cup?”

Author Bio:

Christina Lay is primarily a writer of fantastical fiction, with frequent forays into mystery and mainstream. Many of her short stories have been published in anthologies, magazines and online. She’s won five awards for her short fiction, including second place in the Writers’ Digest Short Fiction competition in 2003. Her novels have also won awards, including first place in the Rupert Hughes Writing Competition at the Maui Writers Conference, First Place in the Journey Conference Novel competition, and she was a finalist in the Pacific Northwest Writers Association competition. Death is a Star, her first novel to be published, was released in February 2013.

Christina was born in Eugene, Oregon and graduated from the University of Oregon in 1988 with a degree in Sociology and a minor in Political Science. She’s worked a wide variety of jobs, from pastry shop clerk to computer software support to cost accounting and bookkeeping for nonprofits. Her favorite job so far has been administrative assistant in a Victorian House Museum. The goal is always to spend as much time as possible writing. For fun she likes to study languages through poetry, take way too many pictures with digital cameras, and be herded by her border collie, Lazlo.

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Crescent Calling
Axelle Chandler
(The Crescent Witch Chronicles #1)
Publication date: August 9th 2017
Genres: Adult, Urban Fantasy

Skye Williams is an ordinary woman, living an ordinary life.
Or so she thought.
When she receives news of her estranged mother’s death, she must go to Ireland to claim her inheritance, but when she arrives in the tiny village of Derrydun, she isn’t prepared for what she finds nestled amongst the rolling hills of the Emerald Isle.
Lumped with a funeral, her mother’s crystal shop, a moody goth girl for an employee, and a crumbling cottage with horrible floral curtains, selling up and getting out sounds like a great plan, but everything and everyone seems determined to keep her from going home.
Skye doesn’t want any part of her mother’s life or the people of Derrydun until she sees the hot Irishman she’s been crushing on turn into a fox.
More absurdly, he tells her her dead mother was a witch who battled evil fairies, there’s magical trees growing in the centre of the village, there’s a parallel universe where the fair folk live, and she’s meant to be the last defense of the magical peoples of Ireland.
Turns out Skye Williams was never an ordinary woman. Not by a long shot.
She’s the last Crescent Witch and has a destiny to fulfil.
Whether she likes it or not.

The Crescent Witch Chronicles is a series stuffed full of Irish charm, myth and mayhem. Come on an adventure fraught with danger and forbidden romance…and the ultimate battle to save magic before it’s gone forever.

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—

EXCERPT:

That night, as Buddy kept me company, I fell asleep to the sound of wind howling through the trees outside. Plagued with dreams of wolves, I tossed and turned until I slipped into a deep slumber.

When dawn finally broke, I was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and my head was stuffed with cotton wool. I’d slept but not really. A heavy burden was over my heart, and my body had become twisted in the quilt, my feet trapped.

Ugh, I was all hot and sticky. I kicked, trying to shift the uncomfortable weight and turned over, but it didn’t budge. Lifting my head, my eyes cracked open, sleep still clogging my head. That was when I saw a lump at the end of the bed. A very large, man-shaped lump.

Now completely awake, I screamed, scrambling up the bed. It was Boone. A very naked Boone.

He started, his head shooting up, and when he saw me, he rolled and fell off the end of the bed, hitting the floor with a thud. Scrambling to his feet, his face turned a deep shade of crimson.

“Oh, shit,” he cursed, covering his junk with his hands. “Oh, cac.”

“Cac?” I yelled. “I’ll give you bloody Irish cac!”

Grabbing the lamp on the bedside table, I pushed up onto my knees and swung it with all my might. The plug popped out of the wall, and the shade barely missed Boone’s face, but the cord came around and whipped him directly on his bare ass.

He howled in pain and retreated across the room.

“Pervert!” I shrieked.

“Let me explain,” he said, holding up his hands and leaving nothing to the imagination.

“Explain? What’s there to explain?” I shouted, trying not to look at his you-know-what. “You were asleep on the end of my bed…naked!” I swung the lamp at him again, barely missing his head. “You’re still standing there. I can see your meat and two veg!”

“Oh, cac,” he said again. “I didn’t mean for you to find out this way…”

“Find out what? That you’re a pervert, who sneaks into women’s homes butt naked?”

Author Bio:

Axelle Chandler is an Australian Urban Fantasy author. She lives in the western suburbs of Melbourne dreaming up nail biting stories featuring bad-ass witches, hunky shape shifters and devious monsters. She likes chocolate, cat memes and video games. When she’s not writing, she likes to think of what she’s writing next.

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