Memaparkan catatan dengan label Howls Romance. Papar semua catatan
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A Baby For The Viking Wolf by Gwen Knight
With great passion comes great responsibility...
Lucy Tullet's entire world has imploded, thanks to the two soft pink lines staring back at her. As a professional party-girl, she never considered settling down and having kids. Until she meets the blood wolf—a renowned Viking vampire hunter with a mysterious past—and spends the night in his arms. Now, thanks to him, everything has changed. Not only are there vampires running amok in town, hunting Lucy and her unborn child, but the blood wolf has staked his claim, determined to both protect her and take her as his mate.
(Available on Kindle Unlimited)
"Lucy," he repeated as he studied my face. "A lovely name for a lovely woman."I cleared my throat and stepped back, putting space between us. "Are you here as a bachelor then?"Bemusement tugged on his mouth. "I'm flattered. But no."
"So, if you aren't here as a bachelor, and you're not part of the European pack…" I let my sentence dangle with the hope that he'd answer my unspoken question. What other reason could there be for his presence? Unless…understanding dawned. "Are you here to bid on one of the bachelors?"
Surprise widened his dark eyes, and he choked back a laugh. "Uh, no. While I'm sure they're fine men, they're not the one I'm interested in."
Heat spread through my cheeks.
"Um. We'll just…be elsewhere," Bailey said. "Like, over there. Yeah, over there works."
"What?" Evelyn asked.
"Come on, dummy." Bailey grabbed Evelyn's arm and wrenched her toward the bar.
The blush spread down the back of my neck. Within five minutes, the entire pack would hear about this. Those two women were the absolute worse sort. Gossip was like air to them.
"So." I shot him another look, my tongue suddenly heavy in my mouth.
This was ridiculous. I wasn't the sort who gummed up in front of a man. I was the sort who took initiative, who dragged them out onto the dance floor for a good time, who used them, then ditched them the next morning. Yet, here I stood, nervously fiddling with my glass, my mouth drier than the desert. All because Mr. Europe was hotter than hell itself.
I cleared my throat and tried again. "What are you here for then?"
His brows furrowed. "I came to see someone. But they didn't show."
A woman someone? I wanted to ask. Except, the words died in my throat. "And you're really not part of the European pack?"
"No." He chuckled, the expression lighting up his face. I loved the sound of it, deep but gentle, as though he laughed a lot. "In fact, I only arrived in America this afternoon."
My lips parted. "Wow. You even managed to score a sweet tux, too. Impressive."
He bowed his head. "I aim to please."
"Did you come to America to meet this friend of yours?"
"I did. Guess that won't be happening tonight, though."
"And this friend…" Just ask! "A female friend?"
His smile broadened, flashing a pair of dimples. "No. Just an old friend. But he's not here, and you are. So, I call that a win."
I ducked my head, the bunnies in my stomach launching into full-blown butterflies. Damn it, stop playing coy! Reagan often called me a man-eater. Time to put up or shut up.
"Well then." I handed my empty glass to the next server who strode by and grabbed two fresh drinks, handing him one. "If you're not from the European pack, then I offer you my sincerest apology for the way I spoke to you earlier."
"That so?" His mouth ticked upward. "I'm honored. I get the impression you don't apologize often."
"I'm not often wrong," I said with a playful wink.
"Ah, beauty and brains, then?" Before I could respond, he plowed onward. "I take it you're here to bid on one of these fine gentlemen tonight?"
"Yup." Not that I wanted to anymore. The only devilishly handsome werewolf I wanted to play with was the one standing in front of me. "You sure you're not supposed to be up there?"
"Do you want me to be?"
Most definitely. I'd bid every last cent on him. Problem was, from the many hungry glances sliding his way, I wasn't the only one interested. And I wasn't known for sharing. After a moment's consideration, I shook my head. "No, you don't belong up there."
He clutched at his chest. "You wound me, madam!"
"It's for your protection, and everyone else's too. I wouldn't want to have to kill everyone who bid on you just to get what I want."
He stepped closer, his scent overwhelming my senses. "I'm intrigued. What is it you want?"
"You tell me," I murmured, my voice taking on a husky note.
His fingers brushed against mine, teasing, taunting…playing the game. I gave a slow blink and lifted my gaze to his, my mouth curling into a sensuous smile.
"I know what I want," he said.
"Do tell."
Without warning, he cupped the back of my head and brushed his lips against mine. Slowly at first, tasting what I had to offer. Teasing me with the promise of something more. I'd expected him to ravish my mouth, but instead, he took the time to seduce me. Heat spread through my body, and my damn knees buckled. His touch feathered against my bare back, eliciting a shiver unlike anything I'd ever experienced. My whole body attuned to his, and he'd done little more than offer a chaste brush of our lips.
We parted, my chest heaving beneath my dress. His gaze dipped to my plunging neckline, his eyes sparkling at the sight of my flushed skin.
"I have a room upstairs," he rasped.
Hallelujah. Because we sure as hell wouldn't make it back to my place.
"Only if you're interested."
I laughed. "You damn well know I'm interested."
"Now?"
Screw the auction. Gabriel had sent me to smooth over the press, and to donate money to a good cause. Neither of which I'd done. But I'd already won the night as far as I was concerned, without spending a single cent. I could easily donate the money without bidding.
I licked my lips, excitement dancing in my stomach. "Now," I murmured. "Right fucking now."
He flashed me a grin. "A woman after my own heart."
"So, if you aren't here as a bachelor, and you're not part of the European pack…" I let my sentence dangle with the hope that he'd answer my unspoken question. What other reason could there be for his presence? Unless…understanding dawned. "Are you here to bid on one of the bachelors?"
Surprise widened his dark eyes, and he choked back a laugh. "Uh, no. While I'm sure they're fine men, they're not the one I'm interested in."
Heat spread through my cheeks.
"Um. We'll just…be elsewhere," Bailey said. "Like, over there. Yeah, over there works."
"What?" Evelyn asked.
"Come on, dummy." Bailey grabbed Evelyn's arm and wrenched her toward the bar.
The blush spread down the back of my neck. Within five minutes, the entire pack would hear about this. Those two women were the absolute worse sort. Gossip was like air to them.
"So." I shot him another look, my tongue suddenly heavy in my mouth.
This was ridiculous. I wasn't the sort who gummed up in front of a man. I was the sort who took initiative, who dragged them out onto the dance floor for a good time, who used them, then ditched them the next morning. Yet, here I stood, nervously fiddling with my glass, my mouth drier than the desert. All because Mr. Europe was hotter than hell itself.
I cleared my throat and tried again. "What are you here for then?"
His brows furrowed. "I came to see someone. But they didn't show."
A woman someone? I wanted to ask. Except, the words died in my throat. "And you're really not part of the European pack?"
"No." He chuckled, the expression lighting up his face. I loved the sound of it, deep but gentle, as though he laughed a lot. "In fact, I only arrived in America this afternoon."
My lips parted. "Wow. You even managed to score a sweet tux, too. Impressive."
He bowed his head. "I aim to please."
"Did you come to America to meet this friend of yours?"
"I did. Guess that won't be happening tonight, though."
"And this friend…" Just ask! "A female friend?"
His smile broadened, flashing a pair of dimples. "No. Just an old friend. But he's not here, and you are. So, I call that a win."
I ducked my head, the bunnies in my stomach launching into full-blown butterflies. Damn it, stop playing coy! Reagan often called me a man-eater. Time to put up or shut up.
"Well then." I handed my empty glass to the next server who strode by and grabbed two fresh drinks, handing him one. "If you're not from the European pack, then I offer you my sincerest apology for the way I spoke to you earlier."
"That so?" His mouth ticked upward. "I'm honored. I get the impression you don't apologize often."
"I'm not often wrong," I said with a playful wink.
"Ah, beauty and brains, then?" Before I could respond, he plowed onward. "I take it you're here to bid on one of these fine gentlemen tonight?"
"Yup." Not that I wanted to anymore. The only devilishly handsome werewolf I wanted to play with was the one standing in front of me. "You sure you're not supposed to be up there?"
"Do you want me to be?"
Most definitely. I'd bid every last cent on him. Problem was, from the many hungry glances sliding his way, I wasn't the only one interested. And I wasn't known for sharing. After a moment's consideration, I shook my head. "No, you don't belong up there."
He clutched at his chest. "You wound me, madam!"
"It's for your protection, and everyone else's too. I wouldn't want to have to kill everyone who bid on you just to get what I want."
He stepped closer, his scent overwhelming my senses. "I'm intrigued. What is it you want?"
"You tell me," I murmured, my voice taking on a husky note.
His fingers brushed against mine, teasing, taunting…playing the game. I gave a slow blink and lifted my gaze to his, my mouth curling into a sensuous smile.
"I know what I want," he said.
"Do tell."
Without warning, he cupped the back of my head and brushed his lips against mine. Slowly at first, tasting what I had to offer. Teasing me with the promise of something more. I'd expected him to ravish my mouth, but instead, he took the time to seduce me. Heat spread through my body, and my damn knees buckled. His touch feathered against my bare back, eliciting a shiver unlike anything I'd ever experienced. My whole body attuned to his, and he'd done little more than offer a chaste brush of our lips.
We parted, my chest heaving beneath my dress. His gaze dipped to my plunging neckline, his eyes sparkling at the sight of my flushed skin.
"I have a room upstairs," he rasped.
Hallelujah. Because we sure as hell wouldn't make it back to my place.
"Only if you're interested."
I laughed. "You damn well know I'm interested."
"Now?"
Screw the auction. Gabriel had sent me to smooth over the press, and to donate money to a good cause. Neither of which I'd done. But I'd already won the night as far as I was concerned, without spending a single cent. I could easily donate the money without bidding.
I licked my lips, excitement dancing in my stomach. "Now," I murmured. "Right fucking now."
He flashed me a grin. "A woman after my own heart."
My Viking Wolf
(Available on Kindle Unlimited)
Gwen Knight is a Canadian girl currently living in Jasper, AB. She graduated from the University of Lethbridge with a degree in Archaeology and Geography. Her interests consist of playing in the dirt, designing elaborate snow forts, boating, and archery.
A Baby For The Viking Wolf by Gwen Knight
With great passion comes great responsibility...
Lucy Tullet's entire world has imploded, thanks to the two soft pink lines staring back at her. As a professional party-girl, she never considered settling down and having kids. Until she meets the blood wolf—a renowned Viking vampire hunter with a mysterious past—and spends the night in his arms. Now, thanks to him, everything has changed. Not only are there vampires running amok in town, hunting Lucy and her unborn child, but the blood wolf has staked his claim, determined to both protect her and take her as his mate.
(Available on Kindle Unlimited)
My Viking Wolf
(Available on Kindle Unlimited)
Gwen Knight is a Canadian girl currently living in Jasper, AB. She graduated from the University of Lethbridge with a degree in Archaeology and Geography. Her interests consist of playing in the dirt, designing elaborate snow forts, boating, and archery.
Purrfect Santa: Howls Romance by Jessie Lane & Chasity Bowlin
Title: Purrfect Santa: Howls Romance
Author: Jessie Lane & Chasity Bowlin
Genre: Paranormal Romance Novella
Release Date: December 12, 2017
A woman afraid to love …
Nikki knows what it is to lose those you love. With her focus on her orphaned sister, she hasn’t given herself the chance to process her own grief over the loss of their parents. Life is chaos and the last complication she needs is a mate.
A lion alone for too long …
Joe Miller knows chaos. Being orphaned as a child, he’s never had a family to call his own. Crashing with a friend for the holidays, he’s hoodwinked into playing Santa Claus at a local mall. The last thing on his mind is finding a mate.
A love worth the risk …
With her baby sister on her hip, sadness in her eyes, and a longing in her heart, Nikki waits in line with her sister to see Santa. From the moment he scents her, Joe is in deep. It’s going to take everything he has to convince Nikki the love outweighs the risk to her heart. Luckily for Joe, he has fate and Nikki’s adorable baby sister on his side. After all, who can say no to the Purrfect Santa at Christmas?
Chapter One
If one more kid tried to pull his beard, he was going to roar.
Joe looked at the small spawn of Satan currently sitting on his lap and held in the urge to growl. The kid was maybe five years old, had blonde hair, blue eyes and dimples galore. His first thought was she was adorable. Now, after she’d pulled on his Santa beard during the picture, he knew better. She was nothing but trouble. If he really were Santa, he would give her coal in her stocking and a letter advising her parents to put her in the naughty corner.
“Smile, Santa!”
The photographer’s words were more of a warning than a cue to get ready for the second picture. So Joe played his role, ho ho ho’d, and smiled for the camera while the brat on his lap asked him for a pony.
There had been a time when Joe hadn’t dreaded Christmas so much. Back when he was a kid and everything about Christmas had still seemed so magical. Not so much anymore. It sucked when you spent the holidays alone. To say he was a bit bitter about the holiday season was an understatement.
Which was part of the reason he couldn’t believe he was here at The Mall of the Smokies, being the damn Santa. How had he gotten wrangled into this position again?
His buddy Sam. Buddy. So much for never leaving a man behind, he thought. There he sat, covered from head to toe in red velvet that was none too fresh and none too clean, thanks to the boozy sweat of the previous wearer. Of course, he’d also had more than one kid with a leaky diaper on his lap that day.
And Sam, where was Sam? Nowhere to be seen.
Joe and Sam had served together in the Marine Corps, but once Sam had completed his term of service, he’d come back home to help run the family business, a lodge in the mountains of East Tennessee. Joe, having nowhere to go after getting out of the service himself, had taken Sam up on his offer to crash at the Bearadise Lodge.
There was just one catch. The Lodge was sponsoring Santa’s Workshop at the local outlet mall, and they were short one Santa. Apparently, the old Santa had been fired for drinking on the job.
Damn that Sam!
After only one day of being Santa, Joe could see why the previous hire had been driven to drink. These kids were hell on his nerves. Like the blonde brat who was once again pulling on his beard. He was just about to give her a little growl when she hopped off his lap and ran giggling to her mother, who gave him an unapologetic glance before dismissing him entirely.
This job would have been so much easier if he were in a shifter-run community. Then he could growl all he wanted. Instead, he was dealing with humans and had to keep his feline traits under wraps.
As the next kid, a little boy about the age of four, climbed on to his lap and proceeded to fart, Joe did his best not to cringe. Bullets and bad guys he could deal with. Snot-nosed kids were apparently his downfall. He’d only been at this for a day and he was thinking of telling Sam he could shove this Santa job where the sun didn’t shine. Joe didn’t even want to think about doing this until Christmas Eve. Three days away. Three long, miserable, endless days of bratty kids, droopy diapers, and disaffected parents more interested in their phones than their kids.
In fact, as the next kid proceeded to sneeze all over him, Joe considered walking out right then.
But then something happened that kept him glued to his seat. His sharp lion senses caught a new smell among the crowd. Peppermint and sugar cookies.
Mate, his lion roared inside his head.
The one person that was cosmically meant for him and him alone. The woman that Mother Nature deemed his. He scanned the crowd until he finally saw her at the end of the line, waiting to come see him.
Short, with generous curves that would fill his hands, she had black hair pulled to the top of her head in a messy bun. He wondered what color her eyes were, being too far away to see them. Scanning the rest of her body, he suddenly stopped when he came to the thing that shocked him the most.
A kid on her hip.
Was it her child? From this far away, he couldn’t scent the small one. Had someone already laid hands on his mate? His lion roared again, only this time it was in protest. No one should touch his mate but him! He would slaughter the man who had dared give his mate a cub.
“SANTA!” the elf behind the camera shouted.
Joe snapped his attention back to the man he was going to eviscerate for taking his concentration away from his mate, only to find a scared human staring at him. It was then he realized the child on his lap was shaking in fear.
The elf inched forward to whisper so the others in line couldn’t hear. “You growled at him, Santa! Say you’re sorry.”
His stomach sank. To say he felt like a colossal piece of shit was an understatement. He had been so wrapped up in his emotions that he had let his lion slip out a little in public, which was a big hell no in the shifter rules. Joe looked at the little boy on his lap and gave the kid a big smile, trying to play off what had happened. “How would you like a stuffed lion for Christmas? They go grrrrrrr.”
The little boy looked at him with wide eyes that slowly turned from fear to curiosity. “You can make a stuffed lion that growls?”
Joe nodded. “Sure can. I can put the elves to work on it right away if that’s what you want.”
The little boy scrunched his face up in thought but then shook his head no. “I really want a bike for Christmas, Santa. Can I have that instead of the lion?”
Relieved that the boy was no longer scared, Joe gave him a big grin and a wink. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Yippee!” The boy squealed as he jumped off Joe’s lap and ran to his mother, who was waiting for him next to the photographer.
Joe watched as the boy happily walked away, then quickly turned his attention back to his mate, who was watching him from the back of the line with big wary eyes. The mating scent was too strong. He couldn’t tell whether or not the child was hers, but that didn’t matter.
She was his.
And if that meant he had to accept another man’s cub into his home to claim his mate, then that’s what he would do. Although he would take great pleasure in rubbing his scent all over both woman and cub every chance that he got. Just to make sure that everyone knew that they were now his and his alone.
If one more kid tried to pull his beard, he was going to roar.
Joe looked at the small spawn of Satan currently sitting on his lap and held in the urge to growl. The kid was maybe five years old, had blonde hair, blue eyes and dimples galore. His first thought was she was adorable. Now, after she’d pulled on his Santa beard during the picture, he knew better. She was nothing but trouble. If he really were Santa, he would give her coal in her stocking and a letter advising her parents to put her in the naughty corner.
“Smile, Santa!”
The photographer’s words were more of a warning than a cue to get ready for the second picture. So Joe played his role, ho ho ho’d, and smiled for the camera while the brat on his lap asked him for a pony.
There had been a time when Joe hadn’t dreaded Christmas so much. Back when he was a kid and everything about Christmas had still seemed so magical. Not so much anymore. It sucked when you spent the holidays alone. To say he was a bit bitter about the holiday season was an understatement.
Which was part of the reason he couldn’t believe he was here at The Mall of the Smokies, being the damn Santa. How had he gotten wrangled into this position again?
His buddy Sam. Buddy. So much for never leaving a man behind, he thought. There he sat, covered from head to toe in red velvet that was none too fresh and none too clean, thanks to the boozy sweat of the previous wearer. Of course, he’d also had more than one kid with a leaky diaper on his lap that day.
And Sam, where was Sam? Nowhere to be seen.
Joe and Sam had served together in the Marine Corps, but once Sam had completed his term of service, he’d come back home to help run the family business, a lodge in the mountains of East Tennessee. Joe, having nowhere to go after getting out of the service himself, had taken Sam up on his offer to crash at the Bearadise Lodge.
There was just one catch. The Lodge was sponsoring Santa’s Workshop at the local outlet mall, and they were short one Santa. Apparently, the old Santa had been fired for drinking on the job.
Damn that Sam!
After only one day of being Santa, Joe could see why the previous hire had been driven to drink. These kids were hell on his nerves. Like the blonde brat who was once again pulling on his beard. He was just about to give her a little growl when she hopped off his lap and ran giggling to her mother, who gave him an unapologetic glance before dismissing him entirely.
This job would have been so much easier if he were in a shifter-run community. Then he could growl all he wanted. Instead, he was dealing with humans and had to keep his feline traits under wraps.
As the next kid, a little boy about the age of four, climbed on to his lap and proceeded to fart, Joe did his best not to cringe. Bullets and bad guys he could deal with. Snot-nosed kids were apparently his downfall. He’d only been at this for a day and he was thinking of telling Sam he could shove this Santa job where the sun didn’t shine. Joe didn’t even want to think about doing this until Christmas Eve. Three days away. Three long, miserable, endless days of bratty kids, droopy diapers, and disaffected parents more interested in their phones than their kids.
In fact, as the next kid proceeded to sneeze all over him, Joe considered walking out right then.
But then something happened that kept him glued to his seat. His sharp lion senses caught a new smell among the crowd. Peppermint and sugar cookies.
Mate, his lion roared inside his head.
The one person that was cosmically meant for him and him alone. The woman that Mother Nature deemed his. He scanned the crowd until he finally saw her at the end of the line, waiting to come see him.
Short, with generous curves that would fill his hands, she had black hair pulled to the top of her head in a messy bun. He wondered what color her eyes were, being too far away to see them. Scanning the rest of her body, he suddenly stopped when he came to the thing that shocked him the most.
A kid on her hip.
Was it her child? From this far away, he couldn’t scent the small one. Had someone already laid hands on his mate? His lion roared again, only this time it was in protest. No one should touch his mate but him! He would slaughter the man who had dared give his mate a cub.
“SANTA!” the elf behind the camera shouted.
Joe snapped his attention back to the man he was going to eviscerate for taking his concentration away from his mate, only to find a scared human staring at him. It was then he realized the child on his lap was shaking in fear.
The elf inched forward to whisper so the others in line couldn’t hear. “You growled at him, Santa! Say you’re sorry.”
His stomach sank. To say he felt like a colossal piece of shit was an understatement. He had been so wrapped up in his emotions that he had let his lion slip out a little in public, which was a big hell no in the shifter rules. Joe looked at the little boy on his lap and gave the kid a big smile, trying to play off what had happened. “How would you like a stuffed lion for Christmas? They go grrrrrrr.”
The little boy looked at him with wide eyes that slowly turned from fear to curiosity. “You can make a stuffed lion that growls?”
Joe nodded. “Sure can. I can put the elves to work on it right away if that’s what you want.”
The little boy scrunched his face up in thought but then shook his head no. “I really want a bike for Christmas, Santa. Can I have that instead of the lion?”
Relieved that the boy was no longer scared, Joe gave him a big grin and a wink. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Yippee!” The boy squealed as he jumped off Joe’s lap and ran to his mother, who was waiting for him next to the photographer.
Joe watched as the boy happily walked away, then quickly turned his attention back to his mate, who was watching him from the back of the line with big wary eyes. The mating scent was too strong. He couldn’t tell whether or not the child was hers, but that didn’t matter.
She was his.
And if that meant he had to accept another man’s cub into his home to claim his mate, then that’s what he would do. Although he would take great pleasure in rubbing his scent all over both woman and cub every chance that he got. Just to make sure that everyone knew that they were now his and his alone.
Jessie Lane is a best-selling author of Paranormal and Contemporary Romance, as well as, Upper YA Paranormal Romance/Fantasy.
She lives in Kentucky with her two little Rock Chicks in-the-making and her over protective alpha husband that she’s pretty sure is a latent grizzly bear shifter. She has a passionate love for reading and writing naughty romance, cliff hanging suspense, and out-of-this-world characters that demand your attention, or threaten to slap you around until you do pay attention to them.
She’s also a proud member of the Romance Writers of America (RWA).
Chasity Bowlin lives in central Kentucky with her husband and their menagerie of animals. She loves writing, loves traveling and enjoys incorporating tidbits of her actual vacations into her books. She is an avid Anglophile, loving all things British, but specifically all things Regency. She also writes steamy contemporary and paranormal romance.
Growing up in Tennessee, spending as much time as possible with her doting grandparents, soap operas were a part of her daily existence, followed by back to back episodes of Scooby Doo. Her path to becoming a romance novelist was set when, rather than simply have her Barbie dolls cruise around in a pink convertible, they time traveled, hosted lavish dinner parties and one even had an evil twin locked in the attic.
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