M&M Mating Agency Boxed Set

All four of the M&M Mating Agency stories in one volume!

Wanting a Mate - Sometimes a gal’s gotta admit defeat and decide how many cats she’s gonna have when she’s old and crazy…

Hunting a Mate - Does love at first sniff exist? Archer and Paige seem to think so. Well, more like Archer says yes and Paige says no. But don’t worry, they’ll work it out in the bedroom.

Protecting a Mate - Werebear Foster never imagined himself with a mate. Not when his massive animal is constantly on a hair trigger. He definitely didn’t think he’d end up with a sinfully sweet and curved in all the right places wereferret named Melanie Baxter.

Buying a Mate - Mate a woman for her millions? Sign weredragon Taron Jones up! He didn’t begin life as a mercenary jerk, but being exiled from the clan tends to make a man willing to do a lot to survive. Including mating a human female who isn’t truly his mate. Or is she?

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Buying a Mate

Mate a woman for her millions? Sign weredragon Taron Jones up! He didn't begin life as a mercenary jerk, but being exiled from the clan tends to make a man willing to do a lot to survive. Including mating a human female who isn't truly his mate. Or is she?

Taron's dragon says the curvaceous female belongs to him.

River says she only needs the muscular lickable weredragon for a marriage license and nothing else.

The Browning siblings... They say River will marry this thing over their dead bodies.

And that is too good of an invitation to ignore.

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Protecting a Mate

She hit him with a door, so he stole her heart…

When wereferret Melanie Baxter meets werebear Foster Lawson, every part of her ferret stands up and takes notice. After her ex offers to sleep with her sister, Melanie isn’t inclined to listen to his sweet nothings. Then she meets a bear who smells so good, with the muscles and the ice blue eyes. And… yeah.

He wants to take things slow, his bear doesn’t…

Werebear Foster never imagined himself with a mate. Not when his massive animal is constantly on a hair trigger. He definitely didn’t think he’d end up with a sinfully sweet and curved in all the right places wereferret named Melanie Baxter.

His plans for a slow seduction of his mate are destroyed when a man from her past steps forward and tries to take what’s Foster’s. Not. Happening.

Read an Excerpt

Melanie ignored her ringing phone for the fiftieth time. She already knew who was calling and she had better things to do than talk to her asshole ex. Because, seriously? He offered to bang her sister when Paige needed banging and… It really didn’t matter. Right now, she had to get to her sister’s office at the M&M Mating Agency and drop off the file Paige had left at home that she so desperately needed.

Mel figured if her baby sis wasn’t banging her new mate every five seconds, she might have remembered the thing.

But she wasn’t envious or anything.

Much.

She scooted into the elevator as the doors slid closed and pressed the button for Paige’s floor. Nervous energy flitted through her as she waited for the thing to freaking hit her floor already. She had to drop this off and then race to the other side of town to begin her rounds of fetching paperwork from each of the Catson Construction build sites.

Because, God knows, foremen for some reason couldn’t stuff their reports in an envelope and mail the things. Or even better, scan and email the information.

Build a skyscraper? Yes.

Slide a sheet of paper into a slot and push some buttons? No.

She wasn’t aggravated with the males.

Much.

The elevator finally came to a gentle stop, a low ding announcing its arrival, and the doors parted.  Melanie strode into the lobby, intent on the receptionist desk which held a very good looking male.

Helloooo there.

Dark hair, tanned skin, and those eyes… Oh, wait, she couldn’t forget all those muscles either. Her little ferret chittered and wiggled in appreciation for the man. And he smelled… divine. All predator and growly hunkiness. He wasn’t her mate, but he was still sexy as hell.

“Hi, I’m—”

“How you doin’?” His voice was deep, filled with sex, and… his identity hit her like a ton of bricks. There was one constant at the M&M Mating Agency. Well, two, but only one who drove Paige up the wall.

“You must be Max Rowe.”

“I am. Are you looking to sign up, baby?” His gaze traveled over her, from toes to nose, he took in her body. “Lemme start a file on you. Twenty-nine, five-five, and just waiting to hop on my di—”

“I’m looking for Paige. I’m her sister, Melanie.” Melanie forced her lips to form a smile. Her little sister told her Max was a sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen.

“Oh.” And like that, his passion was replaced with… fear. “Can you not tell her—”

“Mel! Thank you so much!” Paige raced down the hallway and snatched the papers Mel brought along. “I’ll see you for dinner, and Max, don’t think I didn’t hear you! I’m sending you to sensitivity training. Again.”

Melanie tried not to giggle. She really did. And… failed. She ignored Max’s glare and spun on her heel, anxious to get to her real job.  The one where they actually paid her to race all over the city, stare at hunky, sweaty guys, and pick up after them. Paper-wise, anyway. She’d cleaned up after a guy once, for years, and she wasn’t getting hauled into that trap again.

What had her new friend Chloe’s mom said? When you first start dating and living together, don’t start doing things for him unless you’re willing to do them for the rest of your life. Rest. Of. Your. Life.

Melanie got back on the elevator and not-so-patiently waited for it to return to ground level. Once there, she raced through the lobby and out the front doors. It took no time to hop in her car and then she was gone, racing out of the parking lot toward her first stop.

She pulled onto the highway, blinker clicking, as she merged with traffic and once again her cellphone rang. One good thing about having a steady, asshole ex-boyfriend who never wanted her to work—he bought her everything she wanted and put it in her name. Including the lovely little Mercedes convertible she currently occupied.

She listened to her car identify the caller and groaned when the voice simply said, “caller unknown.” Which meant it could be any one of the job sites.

As she slid across lanes, only a few horns blaring, taking her exit, she pressed the call pickup button. “Melanie Baxter speaking.”

If she were at the office, she’d go into her whole spiel of “thank you for calling blah, blah, how can I make your day wonderful?”

Lame.

But she was driving, so there had to be some leeway there.

She still hadn’t gotten a response. “Hello? This is Melanie.”

Mel put on her blinker once more and pulled into the construction site, only one horn spouting behind her, following the makeshift road to the construction trailer. The new foreman wasn’t hanging around outside, nor did she spy the truck assigned to the site for worker use.  Which meant she’d be going it alone. Good, yet bad because she would have really appreciated more eye candy.

She turned off her car and looked at the car’s nav screen as if she could see the caller. If the person didn’t answer, she’d have to end their one-sided conversation because she had things to do. “Hello?”

“I saw you.” The voice was mechanical, distorted, and unrecognizable. “I saw you, you little slut.”

Then pure silence, telling her the call had been cut.

Slut? Her? She’d had the same friggin’ boyfriend for years until he decided fucking Paige was in the best interest of his career.

Had to be a wrong number. Had to be. Because otherwise she’d have to be scared and Mel refused to get worked up about it. Not when her life was finally going the right direction.

Melanie snatched her purse, tossed her phone in the bag, and then shoved open the door, swinging wide and right into the path of… a hot hunk of yummy man.

Yeah, he was sweaty and dusty from the site, but that didn’t matter. Not when she took a deep breath, captured his scent and realized the male currently clutching his stomach was one hundred percent hers.

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Honey and Fur Boxed Set

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Published: August 17, 2015
Length: Boxed Set
Honey and Fur #3
Genre(s):
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Two bestselling books are now bundled together for one great price!

Hedging His Bets - Honey loves running her bar and grill, catering to humans and shifters alike.  But there are two things that dim her love of the place: cocky assholes who think they own the world, and cocky assholes who think they can flex their muscles and wreck her bar when throwing a temper tantrum.  Unfortunately, the drop-dead gorgeous, hotter than hot, shifter man she secretly loves is both.

Dragon Her Feet - Sometimes a girl’s gotta flex her quills and lay down the law… Katie Carmichael may not be a scary badass dragon capable of toasting her enemies to a crisp, but that doesn’t mean she’s a pushover. And sure, the roaring, fire-breathing hottie is, uh, hot, but she’s a chick with a plan. A plan that includes a secluded old farmhouse and doesn’t include a tall, heavily muscled, and totally delicious weredragon.

This book contains the following novellas in the Honey and Fur series: “Hedging His Bets” and “Dragon Her Feet”. If you already own these books, please do not purchase this title.

 

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Hunting a Mate

The M&M Mating Agency: We deal in matings, not chocolate.

Does love at first sniff exist? Archer and Paige seem to think so. Well, more like Archer says yes and Paige says no. But don’t worry, they’ll work it out in the bedroom.

Wereferret Paige Baxter has an itty-bitty shifting problem. Mainly she spontaneously shifts, and that’s a problem. Her answer is to remain calm, practice yoga, and stay away from anything that could scare her… or surprise her… or arouse her. Of course, the super-hottie ?hunk of werecougar ?she runs into at the M&M Mating Agency ticks off all three “must never happen at once” boxes.

Paige does what any embarrassed, self-respecting woman would do in that situation—she runs. Unfortunately—or fortunately—cats love a good hunt.

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Wanting a Mate

Sometimes a gal’s gotta admit defeat and decide how many cats she’s gonna have when she’s old and crazy…

Chloe Hall has tried every dating website out there and continues to connect with duds. Then her mother signs her up for a new dating—mating—service. Human or shifter, everyone is welcome as long as they’re looking for love and not their next bang. Chloe doesn’t care if her mate roars and sheds or howls and smells like wet dog. He’ll be hers. It’s not until she meets Holt—a massive, muscular, totally gorgeous werecougar—that she realizes she really will become a cat lady, and he absolutely drives her crazy.

Werecougar Holt Moore’s animal is restless and craves things that scare the shit outta him: a mate, cubs, and a white picket fence. It doesn’t seem to remember that cougars are solitary animals in the wild, which also applies to his human half. His cat is too dominant to tolerate other shifters and when he’s on two legs, he towers over every human he meets. He’s big and mean and that’s how he likes it. Then he meets Chloe—curvy, luscious, human Chloe—and realizes he needs to add “possessive” and “biggest asshole on the planet” to his list of traits. Well, not all relationships are smooth sailing.

The M&M Mating Agency – They deal in matings, not chocolate.

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Dragon Her Feet

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Published: April 13, 2015
Length: Short Novel
Honey and Fur #2
Genre(s):
+Add to Goodreads

Sometimes a girl’s gotta flex her quills and lay down the law…

Katie Carmichael may not be a scary badass dragon capable of toasting her enemies to a crisp, but that doesn’t mean she’s a pushover. And sure, the roaring, fire-breathing hottie is, uh, hot, but she’s a chick with a plan. A plan that includes a secluded old farmhouse and doesn’t include a tall, heavily muscled, and totally delicious weredragon.

Joey Kenton, new owner of said old farmhouse, has plans of his own. They revolve around one, curvy, spitfire werehedgehog and whether their children will be hoglets or dragonlets—Joey would be happy with either. Until Katie’s life is threatened and he realizes that her life is more important than his love for her.

Of course, Katie realizes Joey is an idiot and when she revises her plans…

Read an Excerpt

Katie wondered if murdering a pregnant woman was two counts of homicide or one. Honey—said pregnant woman, her boss, BFF, and mate to Katie’s werehedgehog Alpha—was driving her to drink. Between her random cravings, scattered thoughts, and continuous whining, Katie was ready to end the woman.

Her tiny four-door car bounced and shook over the aged dirt road, dust billowing in her wake. She kept the windows shut, air condition on recirculate to keep the country lane’s dirt from invading her vehicle. It was a long drive between Honey’s Bar & Grill and Old Man Kenton’s farm. But it was one she’d been making for a few years now. Unfortunately, this could be her last visit. Unless she could convince Honey that Katie was right and she was wrong. With a capital “W.” Lowercase letters did not work with Honey.

“But the house has got two floors…” Honey whined.

Katie put her cell phone back to her ear when the annoying sound ended. “And we’ll get baby gates to keep the kidlets from falling.” Then she remembered that her friend was mated to a werehedgehog. “With itty bitty slats. Super-small even.”

“And then there’s all that land.”

“We’ll get a lawn mower for Blake. Just think of it, a half-naked man dripping with sweat that you can safely ogle all day.” Safely being the operative word. Katie’s Alpha was a bit possessive when it came to Honey.

“That house is huge.”

Well, yeah, the main house was a smidge on the big side. Katie’s plan was to split the cost of purchasing the farm with Honey and Blake. Since they were mated with a hedgehog-shaped bun in the oven, they’d live in the main house while Katie took over the converted barn. Clean and easy.

Katie repositioned her cell phone and looked at the house in the distance. “Okay, it is big, but I’ll split a cleaning lady with you. Fifty-fifty.” Even if her place was tiny compared to Honey’s.

“And it’s in the boonies.”

Katie knew that, too. It’d taken her thirty minutes to get from Honey’s to Old Man Kenton’s, and she was just now pulling into the farm’s driveway. “I know, but that means it’s quiet.” She sighed. “Look, I really, really wanna buy this place. Old Man Kenton…” He’d been like the loving grandfather she’d never had. “If you don’t want to buy, we won’t. Simple as that.” Her heart stuttered at the thought.

She popped the car into park and cut the engine. Phone now plastered to the other ear, she stared at the rambling farmhouse, admiring the hundred-year-old building with a mix of heart-wrenching grief and envy.

More than one Sunday had been spent on that rickety porch, drinking iced tea with Old Man Kenton. He’d go on and on about his family, telling stories of his relatives long dead and then those who lived but never visited. He’d been forgotten by his family on this plot of land, the house too big for him, yet he’d been unwilling to sell out.

“They’ll take it from my cold, dead fingers, Katie-girl.”

He was cold and dead now and everything in her told her that the farm was hers. She didn’t care about the man’s absent family. Where had his grandson been when the old man was declining? Where had he been when Katie delivered meals every day or read to him every night?

Nowhere.

“Look, I’m here. I gotta get a move on the cleaning and packing. The attorney told me that I have permission to box things up. He said he couldn’t reveal the terms of the will just yet, but he could safely allow me access and he’d look the other way if a few mementos went missing.” A lump in her throat formed with the last few words. Mementos. How did someone pack up years of memories?

“Katie,” Honey sighed and she sensed a softening of her friend’s opinion. “I’ll come look at it with Blake tonight.”

“Really?” Katie hated to get her hopes up, but that couldn’t be helped.

“Really. From what you said, it’s a good place to raise kids. Lots of space, a big house, and we’ll have you next door.” Everything Honey said was true. “And the barn house has enough room for you, your future mate, and your adorable hoglets. Though I want to call them piglets since that’s cuter, but Blake…”

Katie tuned out Honey’s ramblings, instead thinking of the future, a possible mate and—gah—kids. Of course, the mate had to come first. Well, ideally the mate would come first. For a while she’d thought her Alpha, Blake, was that guy, but then she’d seen him fall head over quills for Honey. That had been that.

A glance at her watch revealed she needed to get a move on. She planned on spending a few hours packing and her mobile chat with Honey was eating into her time.

“Hey, chickie, lemme let you go. I’ve got to get to work. M’kay, love you, bye.” Katie didn’t give Honey time to object. They’d been friends for so long, she hoped—prayed— that the Incubator of the Baby didn’t get pissy. Or cry. God, the woman could cry at the drop of a shot glass.

Pregnant women dropped a lot of shot glasses.

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Hedging His Bets

Honey loves running her bar and grill, catering to humans and shifters alike.  But there are two things that dim her love of the place: cocky assholes who think they own the world, and cocky assholes who think they can flex their muscles and wreck her bar when throwing a temper tantrum.  Unfortunately, the drop-dead gorgeous, hotter than hot, shifter man she secretly loves is both.

Blake wants the curvaceous, gorgeous Honey in his bed. Now.  He’s lusted (but not loved, let’s get that straight) after the luscious woman for months.  True, he looks like a bad-boy biker mixed with a player and, yeah, he’s broken a few things in her bar… But only because the guys were hitting on his girl.  With no hope of winning her over in sight, he does what any red-blooded werehedgehog would do in his position.  He lies.

Publisher's Note: If you enjoyed "Hedging His Bets", be sure to check out these two smoking hot related series: "Stratton Wolves" by Mina Carter and "Ridgeville" by Celia Kyle.

Read an Excerpt

Honey was surrounded by drunken idiots. A fact that did not amuse bad-boy Blake Carlisle one bit. He leaned in the doorway for a second, and his heavily muscled frame all but filled the opening as he watched the men surrounding her. The bar was bustling, the place filled wall to wall.

His dark gaze flicked from one face to the next. Later there would be a reckoning.

Honey was his. She had been from the moment she’d arrived in town six months ago and taken over the bar and grill. The sooner people around these parts worked that out, the fewer heads he’d have to break.

Blake walked into the room. Encased head to toe in black leathers, he was the stereotypical biker, right down to the long hair that curled into his neck and the tattoos on his biceps.

As he passed, conversation fell silent. A sense of wariness filled the room, the sweaty tang teasing his nose as they watched him. Watched and waited to see what he’d do next. A bad boy from the wrong side of town, it was no secret Blake had seen the inside of the sheriff’s holding cell more times than most people had hot dinners. He’d lost count of the number of fights he’d started and then finished.

He reached the bar and leaned against it to watch the fracas surrounding his Honey. Amazonian tall with a fall of honey-blonde hair, she was well named. But it wasn’t the hair that held Blake’s attention. Nor was it the stacked rack or the luscious curve of her ass, all attributes he appreciated. Hell, just thinking about those curves kept him hot and hard at nights. But they weren’t what drew him to her.

She had the most beautiful turquoise eyes. Clear and piercing, it was as if she could see through the bad boy mask he presented to the rest of the world and saw him for what he truly was. Saw the man behind the secrets. Which scared the shit out of him and drew him in all at the same time.

“Hey, what’s a guy gotta do around here to get a drink…” One of the louts around Honey pushed his way to the bar, knocking one of his companions out of the way to get in front of her. Blake’s hand curled into a fist as the guy leered at her cleavage. He was going to break bones later. Lots of them. “…or perhaps a little something ‘extra’?”

Red mist descended over Blake’s eyes. Without thinking about the consequences, he surged to his feet. The locals, well used to his behavior by now, cleared the tables nearest to the bar. He ignored their movements. They thought they knew him, but they didn’t. If they knew the truth, they’d be running for the hills. That, or die laughing.

Blake was a shifter. A were if someone wanted to get technical, which meant he was stronger, faster, and meaner than any human alive. He could bench press cars without breaking a sweat or run a marathon before breakfast. If his sexual aura could be bottled and sold, it would make someone a fortune. Men wanted to be him, women wanted to be with him. All in all, he was living the dream. Apart from one little detail. Blake was a shape shifter, yes, but he preferred to remain in his human form because the fates were bitches with a twisted sense of humor.

There were werewolves and werecats, even bad-ass werebears. Blake was none of those. No, he’d lucked out in the small, spiny, and cute arena. Blake was a werehedgehog.

“Gentlemen, I think you’ve had enough,” His voice was low and held more than a hint of threat. The kind of warning that said he didn’t expect any argument, but if one came his way he’d happily take up the challenge. With his fists.

Unfortunately for him, the blond harassing Honey wasn’t so good at picking up on subtle hints. Probably wasn’t so good at picking up anything less than a piece of two by four against the back of his head. He had that sort of hard-bitten, bar fighter look about him.

“I can handle this, Blake.” Honey gave him a glare for his troubles. The sort of glare with its own subtle innuendo. Blake abruptly lost the ability to read her and just stared at the guy in front of the bar.

The stranger turned around and rested on his elbows against the solid surface. “Yeah Blake, let the little lady handle this. And I’ll handle her…” Catcalls went up from the group around the man as high fives were exchanged.

Blake shrugged and hooked a chair from the nearest table with his foot. He picked it up, looked it over, and pretended to admire the workmanship. “Well, you know women… Sometimes they don’t know what they want. And they never realize when they’re in over their heads. They need a strong man to look out for them.”

Honey squeaked in outrage, her face turning a bright shade of red that he knew meant she was angry with him. Blake ignored her. His hands smoothed over the back of the simple chair as he turned it over. Blondie’s eyes flicked to it and back to him.

“Really? Personally man, I think you and your chair there should get a room and some quality time together before me and the boys here get bored and decide you need to be taught a lesson.”

Blake looked up through the hair that had fallen over his face and smiled. Not a nice, “how ya doing?” smile, but one that said bad things were about to happen.

“Blake… Blake you put that chair down now,” Honey warned, her sweet voice rolling through him, but not doing a damn bit of good at soothing the beast inside.

“Is that so? Well then…” He ripped the thing apart in one quick jerk.

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