Ready for your next trip to Texas?
Greetings from the Multiverse!
I am so excited to tell you that, this October, we’re going back to Post-Convergence Texas - and our smart-mouthed, redheaded frat boy will be the next wolf to get his HEA.
Omegas are supposed to obey their alphas. That’s why I’m determined to remain unmated...even after I meet my fated mate.
I’m one of twenty in a pack of omegas. We rule by consensus, we tell off the alphas we come across, and we refuse to be tamed. Our den—an abandoned Texas waterpark—is our own little utopia.
So when I come across my fated mate one heat-stricken night in the woods, I’m not super happy to find that he’s an alpha…and, unsurprisingly, a huge jerk.
Alphahole Grant Turner can’t keep his mouth shut, and he insists that it’s “destiny” for me to come home with him to the Austin den. He says there are good people there that will keep us safe, as if me and the other River Omegas need a big strong alpha to survive.
But Grant doesn’t realize that I’ve been burned before, and I won’t let it happen again.
Even if my heat demands that I give myself to him.
Burned by the Lycanthrope is available for preorder now!
Featured Reads
This Week’s Spicy (AND I MEAN THAT!) Snippet…
Featuring a little exhibitionism and a little voyeurism from Veiled in Shadow…
“Are we doing this here?”
“I like the idea of my men seeing how…receptive you are,” Atlas says. “Don’t you, Keon?”
“Absolutely,” Keon croons in my ear, his voice deep and husky. He squeezes my nipples again, so hard that it hurts, and I let out a sharp gasp. “Unless she wants her toys.”
“I don’t think she’s going to need them,” Atlas murmurs.
He flicks his fingers, and another jolt skims over me, settling at the juncture of my thighs. I don’t think he has to move to make it happen; it’s just another illustration of how badly he wants to fuck me himself. I watch as he moves those thick fingers almost rhythmically, each time making the sensation more powerful.
“I don’t need them,” I blurt out, barely able to speak. “And I…I want to please you, Atlas.”
He smiles, his sharp teeth gleaming white.
“Good,” he growls.
I can’t do anything but stand there as Keon grinds on me, tweaking my nipples until they ache. He’s an expert with his hands, playing me like an instrument. And his lips suck on my pulse hard enough that I know I’m going to get a hickey, that my neck will be bruised and that it won’t be from my husband…
“I want you to lick her,” Atlas says—offhand, like he’s placing a dinner order. “Get on your knees in front of her.”
A low chuckle rumbles in Keon’s chest. “Gladly.”
He twirls gracefully around me and gets to his knees, looking up at me with a smirk. My fingers fly to his hair almost instinctively, and he groans when I grasp it tight, finding it to be silky and soft.
“Darling araske,” he murmurs. “You’re a much more wicked thing than you let on, aren’t you?”
“I don’t…” I start.
But then he latches on between my thighs, and I find out what it’s like to get eaten out by an alien rockstar.