He Ain’t Lion

Life sucks… And then you get turned into a werelion…

Curvaceous, blonde bombshell Maya Josephs is looking for a little action to take her mind off of her recent break-up. Crazy werecats or not, an evening at Genesis is exactly what she needs. And when she meets the hotter than hot, super-sexy owner, Alex O’Connell, the alpha lion shifter is just the man to fit the bill for a one-night stand.

Dumped like a rotting piece of meat by her ex, Maya is on the prowl, fixin' to do whatever it takes to get herself a piece of the gorgeous furball. Besides, what’s the harm in a girl having a little bit of fun?

Pages: 89 ~ Words: 22211

Read an Excerpt

Alex O’Connell watched the ripple of awareness ease through Genesis, his club, as each male seemingly became mindful of the newcomer, the unknown human female, in their midst. The singular woman who smelled nothing of pride or pack.

Shit, fuck, damn, and growl.

He ran a hand through his hair and willed his inner cat to calm. Unfortunately, the beast wasn’t in the mood to be denied. It’d already scented the lush woman, and was more than ready to pounce–strip her naked and slide his hard length inside her body.

How the fuck had she gained entrance?

The semiannual Gaian Moon was making an appearance tonight, so Alex had gathered his pride and willing humans, known as familiars, to converge within the confines of the club. Sex could be had, raucous noises could be made, and most of the furniture had already been cat-proofed.

Who was she, this unfamiliar female swaying her curvaceous hips amongst his felines, completely oblivious to the trouble she was about to cause?

The Gaian Moon ensured cubs would be born, and that their pride would continue to flourish. Without the celestial rising their numbers would almost certainly dwindle, and they’d likely wither and die, as true matings were extremely rare among his kind.

The humans in attendance knew what they were in for, the moment they’d become pride familiars. The pride would care for them and any offspring, for the remainder of their lives, so long as they made themselves available at the Gaian Moon gatherings, and helped the pride when called upon. Giving birth to cubs only ensured that pride protection and support would be everlasting.

There were several true matings in their pride, but those couples remained at home to make little cubs of their own, while the others romped their way through Genesis.

The female in the tight, cleavage-revealing red dress, though, was not a familiar. Alex knew this, because he was the prime, damn it.

Shit, fuck, damn, and growl.

His felines were staring at her as if she was a slaughtered deer, and they hadn’t eaten for weeks. Even so, she continued to mingle, now easily fifty feet from where he stood, and yet, he could still scent her heat, single her out from amongst the gatherers. He needed to do something. Fast.

“You need to do something, Alex. And fast.” Grayson’s words cut through his thoughts, mirroring his own. “She’s not one of ours.”

“I know.” Alex barely recognized his own voice, and he paused for a moment to take stock of his body’s responses to the new arrival. His cat, normally easy to control after years of practice, was fighting Alex’s restraint, snarling and snapping at its internal cage, prowling just beneath the thin veneer of his skin. The fucker wanted out. Now.

His arms tingled, skin prickled, and he knew–without looking–that golden fur had sprouted from his forearms. The throbbing from his hands would soon reveal fuzzy fingers, and lethal, razor-sharp claws. Fuckity fuck.

“How’d she get in?” His lengthened canines made speech difficult, but not impossible.

He watched the expressions that flitted across his second’s face, where feelings of regret and remorse appeared to be dueling for supremacy. “I put Gina on the door, and she said she could’ve  sworn  the woman was on the list. And that her scent held your mark.”

Alex rolled his eyes, immediately refocusing his gaze on the tempting interloper. Her blonde hair practically glowed under the dim lights of the club, her pale skin a beacon his lion was more than happy to follow to the ends of the earth. “She’s still pissed at me for not mounting her during the last moon, and I’m sure she’s just itching to start some trouble.”

Grayson nodded. “I think you may be right.”

Lion wanted this stranger. No doubt about its feelings, the beast practically begged and snarled its needs to Alex. Part of him wanted to charge through the gathering, steal her away to his den. Unfortunately he couldn’t do that, not without revealing his true nature to the woman. Sure, shifters were known to the human populace, but they weren’t exactly “out and proud” about their existence. Nonchalance and some closely kept secrets had kept the shifters protected thus far, and the various clan leaders around the world wanted to keep it that way.

Alex had too much on his plate already, and he’d rather not add “calming a panicking human” to the list.

“Bring her up, Grayson. I’ll speak with her, and then send her on her way. Perhaps give her an incentive to return on another night. We can’t have her in the building once the doors are locked and the festivities have begun.”

“There’s only five minutes left, Prime.”

As if the reminder of his title within the pride wasn’t enough to pressure him, the last thing Alex needed was to be further stressed by his second’s announcement of the remaining time, damn it. His cat was more than aware of how long it needed to wait until it could mate with the fertile, willing females, and the opportunity to produce cubs of its own, true mate or not. His lion had yet to be successful, but it was more than willing to keep trying… “Then make it fast.”


Her friend Gina hadn’t lied. The guys in Genesis were all staring at her as if she were a big hunk of choice beef, and they hadn’t eaten for weeks. Then again, the whole semi-drooling thing could be because they were werecats. But wait, weren’t dogs the droolers?

Maya mentally shrugged. Gina, even if she did seem a little cat crazy, was fun to hang out with, and now, she was Maya’s very best, hook-me-up-with-hotness, friend.

She’d known all along that shifters lived in Ridgeville, as well as many of the surrounding towns in their wide expanse of North Carolina, so the all-cat club and semiannual orgy didn’t really surprise her much. She’d always heard that shifters were very sexual beings.

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You’re Lion

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Published: July 3, 2012
Length: Short Story
Ridgeville #2
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Newly turned lioness Maya Josephs is  so  not good at being the prima of the Ridgeville pride. She doesn’t give a damn about protocol or hierarchy, and the last thing she wants to do is play nice with the pretentious tigress shifter leader who’s come to pay her respects. Especially since the little bitch seems entirely too grabby with her mate, Alex, for Maya’s taste.

With new pregnancy hormones making her inner kitty extra bitchy, Maya’s not sure who she’s going to murder first: her gyno for discovering the pregnancy, her guards for following her every move (and annoying the living shit out of her), or the striped beyotch cooing over Alex. Screw it. She'll start with the tigress and work her way around to the other two.

Lucky for everyone involved, it’s a good thing Alex knows how to tame her inner she-cat…and make her purr.

Read an Excerpt

God save Maya from every overprotective, pigheaded, butt sniffing, meddling men–even if they were lions.


What could be the source of her frustration? Perhaps it had something to do with the five–count ‘em,  five–werelions guarding her, while she waited her turn at the gyno’s office. To make things that much more unbearable, each one of ‘em looked ready to pounce on and destroy anyone or anything that came within a few feet of her. Great. Just the sorta thing that these pregnant woman needed in their already difficult lives. Surely, she thought.

The door on the other side of the room opened and a familiar woman poked her head out. Maya immediately recognized her as one of the nurses, and breathed a huge thank-fucking-god sigh of relief when she heard her name called.

“Maya Josephs?”

Her quintet of “guard dogs” responded in unison. “It’s O’Connell.”

Maya rolled her eyes, unable–or maybe unwilling–to stop the growl that roared from her chest. She gave her inner furball lioness bitch a mental high five for that sound of hostility. She’d be damned if she took her mate’s name just yet. Both sides of her–human and she-cat alike–were pretty pissed about the lack of something sparkly on the ring finger of her left hand. It’d been months since their mating–which he’d done on the sly by the way,thankyouverymuch,  and Maya was still without the customary ring she could flash to all of her non-furry friends. The other shifters had congratulated her on their mating, but her human friends were left to wonder when she and Alex would be getting hitched.

Maya was still having the whole “last name” argument with the entire effing pride it seemed. And, as far as she was concerned, until she and Alex said their “I dos,” she was gonna cling to Josephs like she was a starving Spider Monkey that held the last banana in the freakin’ jungle.

“Um, Miss Josephs?” The nurse raised her brows and Maya hopped to her feet, before the “Fearsome Fivesome,” as she jokingly named them, could interject (again), and practically ran toward the door.

Of course, the idjits just couldn’t let her go get her “hoo-ha” examined alone. Nope, they all charged after her, no doubt scaring the poor nurse silly, since the woman suddenly bolted from the doorway the moment Maya reached for the knob. Before stepping into the gyno office’s inner domain, she turned and faced her unneeded–and unwanted–werelion guards (because, really? Who in the hell was going to come after little ol’ her, especially at the doctor’s office? ) and glared at them en masse. “No. Bad kitties. Sit.  Stay.

“But–” started Wyatt.

“Prima…” Deuce chimed in.

“The Prime said–” Harding added.

“Alex gave us strict orders,” Neal interrupted.

Then, a gruff voice rose above the rest. “Leave her be.”

The last three words came from her favorite “babysitter,” Brute, (whose real name was Brutus, but nobody called him that, for fear of being beaten to a bloody pulp by his deadly hands), and she jumped at his uttered orders as if they were a freaking lifeline.

“Super! I’ll see y’all in a bit!”

With a forced smile and a quick wave, she chased after the nurse, leaving five grumbling werelions in the crowded waiting area. She felt bad for the pregnant women who’d be surrounded by all of that testosterone. Well, mostly sorry, at any rate. Because, only two people in the world were allowed to see her vagina, damn it. The man who fucked it stupid (thank god for that), and the man who made sure it stayed healthy. The quintet would just have to wait outside.

After a quick weigh-in (she opted not to look) and a check of her blood pressure (you go healthy chubby chick!), the nurse led her to the bathroom to pee in a cup. Now that she was sexually active, she had to endure the whole pregnancy-check-thingie before they’d give her another quarterly birth control shot. Whatever. She’d pee until the cows came home if it meant that she and Alex could continue to forgo the use of condoms.


Her business finished, Maya headed over to the exam room and frowned at the folded paper outfit resting on the table. Ugh. She rather hated getting nekkid here, and being wrapped up in a thin, napkin-like sheet didn’t make her feel any better.

No way to avoid it, though.

After making sure the door was nice and secure, she stripped and donned the provided flimsy gown, then plopped her jiggly ass on the exam table and waited. And waited some more. Man, she really hoped one of the doctor’s patients wasn’t in labor. ‘Cause gynos were notoriously known for being called away to do the whole push-push-push-catch-thing.

After what felt like forever, a soft knock sounded, and the man of the hour, Doc Molloy, poked his head in. “Ready for me?”

Pre-Alex, Maya had had a love-hate relationship with her gynecologist. On one hand, Dr. Molloy was uber hawt. But on the other, she’d had to strip buck naked and let him poke at her vag…and not in a very fun way, mind you. Shit, he’d never even bought her dinner first.

Presently, her lioness hated the human male, and wanted to scratch his face off for even thinking of touching her. Apparently, that was how mated she-cats responded to the men that weren’t their mates.


“Yup. Ready as I’ll ever be.” She smiled, simply because it was that, or hiss and growl at him, something that her lioness was itching to do.

Upset kitty was clawing at her insides, growling, hissing, and spitting, protesting the presence of the male…especially because of the reason why the stranger was there. The doc stepped fully into the room and closed them inside the small space, his focus fixed on her chart as he settled onto a nearby stool. Which was kinda weird.

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Ball of Furry

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Published: August 15, 2012
Length: Novella
Ridgeville #3
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Perfectly plump Carly’s paranormal-wererabbit world goes kablooey on the night of the semiannual Gaian Moon. While all of the furry creatures in Ridgeville decide to knock boots and make babies, the only thing she wants to do is hide from all of the weenie-swinging men, including her would-be mate, Neal. There’s no denying he’s hotter-than-hot, and her bunny wants him more than her next dandelion, but there’s just one teeny-tiny problem. You see, Neal has wandering eyes, and a love for women that’s even bigger than his home state of Texas. But, to her surprise, the lion pounces when she least expects it…and claims her before she has the chance to say “No.”

Furry bastard.

As if her life isn’t crazy enough…it just happens to get that much crazier when someone decides they want her dead.

Question is–can she survive whomever or whatever the hell is hunting her, while trying her damnedest to get over the fact that Neal had a life before he met her?

For both their sakes, she sure as hell hopes so.

Read an Excerpt


OMG Mate!

Mate, mate.

Carly stiffened in Andrew’s arms, her bunny senses going buck wild as she scanned the interior of Honey’s Bar & Grill. The members of her warren and the pride were gathered to casually celebrate her best friend’s mating to the lion Prime. After getting Maya, her BFF since first grade, through her initial shift, Carly was hanging with them all and having a fun time.

And now she’d found her mate.


“Carls?” Andrew’s voice was raised so that Carly could hear him over the music. “What’s up?”

“Andrew!” She leaned forward to whisper-yell into his ear. More yell than whisper, and a good dose of squee added in. “I found my mate! He’s here!”

She couldn’t help talking with such excitement. She’d found the male she’d spend the rest of her life with, the man who would father her kits.

Now, she just had to find him.

“Y-y-your mate?” Andrew sputtered.

She pulled back to look at her friend and found his expression…odd. Andrew looked as if he’d been slapped, stomped, spit on, and then someone had kicked his puppy. Well, he didn’t have a puppy, but if he did, it’d been whaled on ‘til the thing was barely breathing.

“Just now?” He tightened his arms and his grip grew tighter as seconds passed, his hold nearing pain while he focused intently on her. “You’re sure?”


“Sorry. I thought…” He swallowed hard and released her, sorrow evident in his eyes. “Sorry. Go ahead. Find him.”

Carly furrowed her brow. She’d always known that Andrew felt more for her than the love of a friend, but still, his reaction seemed stronger than she’d anticipated. Maybe finding her male now was perfect timing. Hopefully, as she spent time with her new found mate and less with Andrew, his feelings would fade.

Another hint of the musky scent of raindrops and daffodils wafted across her path and she stepped out of her friend’s arms. She’d spend some time on Andrew’s feelings…later. She needed to find the source of that yumminess. Now.

She wove through the gathering, smiling gently at various members of the warren, and kept an eye on the lions that looked at her like she was dinner. She suppressed a shiver along with the hint of fear that had gathered in her chest. Fear would simply force the cats to chase her and add raw bunny to the menu.

So not a good thing.

Maya had been considered an honorary warren member–hence the bunny attendance–but Carly didn’t need to tempt the carnivores.

A tingle of the male’s smell crossed her path and she followed it farther. Around and through various groupings she traveled, closer to her goal with every step. The scent of her quarry grew as she neared the bar, and she eyed the gathering of bodies.

Several males lined the long piece of polished wood and she looked them all over. She recognized a couple of rabbits–her cousin Beth among some of the guys, teasing and flirting with them all–and tossed their presence aside. She’d known them since she was little, a kit hopping after her brother. No way could any of them be her male. Which left three others as the likely candidates.

Carly approached, stared at the back of each of them as she strolled past. Surreptitiously she sniffed, leaned close, and gathered their scents, trying not to look too stalker-esque.

The first male smelled as if he had bathed in alcohol with undertones of sadness and fiery woodlands coating him. “Yo! Can I get another, blondie?”

The bartender sent a beer sliding down the bar top. “Here ya go, Ricker. On the house.”

The man’s name teased the back of her mind, but she couldn’t place it. Not that it mattered. Her guy was all early morning rain. Her fave.

Two steps brought her to the next and she repeated the process: a sniff, deep breath, and sunshine wafted over her. Nope. Bunny wasn’t having it. She wanted the rainy daffodils, damn it.

Carly knew when to listen. Besides, daffodils were her rabbit crack and she was a lifetime addict.

The third male…she shivered, partly in disgust, partly in excitement.

Damn the process of elimination.

He had black hair and deeply tanned skin. Of course, she’d have been able to see more of him if it hadn’t been for the thin blonde draped over his back like a blanket.

He turned on his stool to face the woman and wrapped his arms around her waist, smiling as he hugged her close, a way too sexy dimple on display.

The woman before him stuck out her lower lip with a pout. “You love me, don’t you, Neal?”

He leaned close and kissed her, teeth nibbling on the blonde’s lower lip. “Of course, darlin’.” His hands traveled down to squeeze the lady’s ass and nausea gurgled in Carly’s stomach. The scent of the woman–human–hit her the barest moment before Neal’s scent poured over her skin. Male musk, spring rain, and daffodils.

Her mate, her male, sat before her, his hands on another as he proclaimed his love for her. Oh, god, she was going to be sick.

Carly whimpered and swallowed against the vomit traveling along her throat. She’d been so naïve, so bowled over by the stories her parents had shared over the years. She’d always imagined her mate as a male who’d saved his love (if not his baby-making equipment) for her, and only her. She’d never gifted her heart to anyone, and here he was…

She took a step back and her movement drew his attention. Blue eyes focused on her while his nostrils flared and she watched the knowledge of their connection flow through his body. His muscles tensed and he released the woman’s waist, grabbing her wrists and forcing her to let him go.

“Neal?” the blonde whined.

Carly’s hurt overrode the rabbit’s desire to stay put.

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Head Over Tail

Being kidnapped sucks…but then you find your mate…

Maddy Lane did not enjoy the whole “being kidnapped” thing.  Then her knight in tight leather showed up to rescue her lioness-y ass and he turned out to be her O-M-G mate.  Rawr.  Sure, she’s a Sensitive. And, yeah, Sensitives are usually pushovers. But Maddy has been getting “badass” lessons and she’s got no problem telling her hotter-than-hell mate where he can shove his orders and domineering attitude.  Of course, it’d be a lot easier to be growly with him if he wasn’t so damn sexy.

Ricker Croft, council tracker and ferocious tiger, can’t figure out what to do with his deliciously curvy mate.  She’s a study in contradictions and he never did well in school.  As a Sensitive, Maddy is supposed to be sweet, pliant, most importantly, his. She sure as hell wasn’t supposed to be a vicious she-cat who sliced and diced a man attempting rape.  And she shouldn’t have disregarded a direct order from a more dominant shifter.  Even more, the words “get the steel rod out of your ass” should have never passed her tempting lips.

Ricker knows that mating doesn’t equate to love, but he’s going to do his damndest to convince the woman who holds his heart that she can’t live without him.  Even if it means turning his life upside down and embarrassing himself in the process.

Read an Excerpt

“Backbones are like assholes. Everyone’s got one. You just have to find yours. The backbone, not the asshole. I’m assuming you know where you asshole is. If not, we have bigger problems.” – Maya Josephs, Prima of the Ridgeville Pride, who swears ta god that she will slap her last name on her unborn twins’ birth certificates if her mate doesn’t marry her soon.

Maddy Lane’s kidnappers had been all about kung-fu fighting and fast as lightning.

She was not a kung-fu hi-ya! kind of gal and tended to lean toward run-and-hide.

Now, a ton of minutes post-kidnapping, she’d decided that being abducted was not an enjoyable experience and she really needed to learn how to wield a judo chop.

She kinda figured the kidnapping adventure needed to come to an end. Any time. She was totally ready. In all the romance novels she’d read, the heroine would be spirited away by evil-doers and then rescued before anything bad could happen to the poor, defenseless waif.

She hadn’t been rescued…not that she’d been missing all that long.

But still. Bad stuff had happened.

She tongued her lower lip, wincing when the muscle encountered the oozing wound that would make it hard to smile for a while. Her head throbbed to the hella fast beat of her heart. One of the assholes in the SUV was the cause of both discomforts and she’d love the chance to repay him.

Eventually. When she gathered enough nerve to fight them. Which would probably be never, but a girl could hope.

Maddy twisted her arms, rubbed her wrists against her bindings and searched for any give in the material. Snippets of pain from the movements registered, but she couldn’t worry about those feelings. Not when her life was at stake. Because, really, she wanted to do the whole “living” thing a little longer.

The SUV took a sharp left and she was thrown against one of the men. A piercing ache erupted in her chest and a small whimper escaped without conscious thought.

Okay, she could add bruised or broken ribs to her list of injuries. Lovely.

The man she leaned against didn’t respond to the sudden additional weight. But, as low as the sound had been, it caught the attention of one of the other males.

A beefy hand wrapped around her upper arm, yanking her upright once again. “Hey, pretty. Shut it. We don’t need no shit from the boss’ kitten, got it?”

She squeezed her eyes shut as the prickle of tears gathered behind her lids. She willed the moisture to recede. There was no way she’d let the men see her cry.

The male released her and she stifled another sound, a deep groan that had built in her chest as he’d held her tight. The palm had been covering a bruise, nothing more, but that additional ache just piled on with the others in her body.

Maddy felt like a bruise from head to toe and back again. Sure, she figured they’d tried to be easy with the whole “sneak in and grab her” thing, but she’d been asleep when they came for her. And when she slept, she forgot to be afraid.

She hadn’t heard them outside her home, disabling her alarm. Or when they’d picked the lock on her back door. Or when they’d crept through her house. Or when they’d secreted into her bedroom.

No, it wasn’t until that first brush of a foreign breath on her skin that she knew her space had been breached and she’d awoken a tad…upset.

That wasn’t even right. Upset was a word her parents used. Angry maybe? Pissed worked even better. Okay, fucking enraged.

And they hadn’t been expecting that reaction. Hell, if push came to shove, Maddy hadn’t been expecting it either. She was a cower-er by nature…

Well, they’d woken her and then they’d had to deal with her. More importantly, they had to deal with Maddy’s lioness. The cat had been less than pleased with all the males crowding her space.

Hell, she didn’t remember most of what happened between waking in her bedroom with a man looking down at her and sitting in the SUV. Obviously, it hadn’t been pretty.

Maddy took as deep a breath as she dared, pain in her chest flourishing with the move. She needed to stay calm and figure out where her life had gone to hell.

And the quickest way to do that was tap into the wonderful powers she hated and put them to use. Her abilities were the source of her life’s hardships, but they had their uses.

True, being a Sensitive meant she could do more than a “normal” shifter. She could sense turmoil in the pride, soothe others in need and glean knowledge that shifters may want to keep hidden.

Guess how many lions, hell shifters, avoided her?

All of them.

Ding, ding, ding… Johnny, tell her what she’s won!

When shifters weren’t taunting and being mean to her, they were keeping their distance, afraid she’d somehow lay some voodoo smack-down on them.

Well, except Maya. The pride Prima had a knack for cutting through B.S. and had a habit of telling the other cats to get the fuck over themselves.

Maddy wanted to be her when she grew up.

Sensitives were needed, essential, but they were also the physically weakest of the cats which left her at the mercy of the others. True, the Prima had put an end to all that, but the fear lingered.

Damn her fear. She really needed to find her backbone like Maya had told her.

Backbones are like assholes…

Fuck it. She’d find it later. For now, she needed the metaphysical “lay of the land”.

One last breath and she let her consciousness float. Honestly, that was the only way to explain it… She just drifted in her head, the two halves of her mind twining in the cool darkness, picking and poking at one another until they twirled together and became one.

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Fierce in Fur

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Published: November 26, 2012
Length: Novella
Ridgeville #5
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Elise really did love her family. Mostly.  Except they just wouldn’t leave her the heck alone.  Yes, she’d just returned after two years of hell at the hands of a militant group called Freedom. And, yes, she was a severely broken Senstive. But, no, she wasn’t a baby who needed to be coddled and wrapped in cotton.  Which was why she got the hell out of Dodge and headed to the one place she knew she’d feel more herself and less cotton-y: Ridgeville.  Only her escape didn’t go as expected. There was a whacked out wedding, followed immediately (really immediately) by Elise putting her nursing skills to use and catching a couple of babies. Somewhere along the way, her friend Maddy worked her Sensitive magic mojo, and Elise began to feel more like herself and less jacked in the head.  Of course, her life took a turn for the O-M-G-Awesome when she stumbled across her mate.  Did she mention he was over six feet of lickaliciousness?

Brute had never put much thought into the idea of an all knowing deity. Not that he didn’t believe, he just hadn’t ever pondered the idea.  He was too busy protecting the Prima (mostly from herself), protecting the pride (mostly from the Prima) and generally keeping his family from murdering each other (often). But the day he met the curvaceous fox he’d call his own was the day he figured there was a God, and the guy kinda liked him.  That thought stuck with him until he found out that his sweet fox was the battered and bruised Sensitive that had been rescued with Maddy.  Then his mind centered on helping his woman heal and was most definitely not on the hardness of his junk when she was near.  Nope. Not at all.

When they get to sexy times, it’s all broken beds and orgasms until a threat from the past shows up on Elise’s doorstep. Will Brute be able to prove to his little fox that the gentle giant can become a furry fierce lion when needed?

Read an Excerpt

“The best laid plans of foxes and felines often go awry. Or fucked up beyond all recognition. But that second one isn’t very kid-friendly, is it?” – Maya Josephs, Prima of the Ridgeville Pride who is very, very pregnant and very, very unmarried.


Somehow, Brute’s baby sister had morphed from an adorable, toddling cub to a bloodthirsty bitch of gigantic proportions. His mother assured him this happened when lions hit their teen years.

Brute didn’t recall being such an ass.

His mother told him it was because he’d been born with a dick.

And that had ended that discussion.

“Honor,” he sighed and rubbed the top of his head, palm tickled by his growing hair. It was time to bust out the Bic again. “Explain to me why slaughtering Jenner would be a good thing. Just one more time.”

Their parents were vacationing in Florida, which left family matters squarely in his court.

“Because.” His baby sister, all of sixteen, snarled at him like a full grown lioness. Why did his parents keep having cubs after him? Why?

“I can’t go to the Prime with ‘because’ when one of the Prima’s favorite lions suddenly turns up dead during a run. That would upset the Prima, which upsets the Prime, and then things get bloody and I have to clean up the mess.” He raised a brow. “Try again.”

Honor stomped her foot and Brute could have sworn that the tile cracked beneath her. Damn, their mother was going to be pissed. Not as angry as she would have been if Honor had succeeded in ridding the world of Jenner, though. So, he figured he’d be thankful for the cracked tile.

“Brutus.” His name was uttered between clenched teeth.

Now, anyone outside the family knew not to use his given name under threat of blood and gore. Unfortunately, that didn’t apply to family. His momma had laid that law down long ago.

“Honor.” He kept his tone strong, but level, gaze centered on the little bit of lioness before him. He couldn’t show fear. It didn’t matter that sweat was dripping down his back, sliding and settling at the base of his spine. No fear in the face of the enemy.

You are a fierce lion. You are the king of the jungle. People run when you roar. Stay strong…


One of Brute’s other sisters, Emma, waltzed into the room, nose buried in her e-reader.

“She saw Jenner hitting Genesis last night with Maya’s friend, Gina Ernst.” Emma turned her e-reader off as she slid into her seat at the kitchen table. “And they were cozy.”

Honor pointed at her younger sister, every muscle in her body tense. “See! He needs to die. No, dying is too good for him. What did Carly do to that guy when she was kidnapped? I wanna do that.” Another stomp of her foot.

Brute sighed and gave Emma his attention. She was the family angel while Honor was the family… Psycho Hose Beast Demon from Hell. “Translation?”

“She thinks he’s her mate.”

God save him from females. He swung his attention back to his now screeching sister.

“You bitch!” Honor launched her lithe body across the kitchen and Brute snagged her around the middle with ease, holding her back so that all of the Mauers remained intact until their parents returned.

The she-cat in his arms scratched his forearms and beat her heels into his shins, fighting his grasp with everything her little body had. As if she’d be able to break his hold.

“He is my mate, you whore!”

Little Emma, calm as always, diverted her attention from her toast to Brute. “Can a virgin be a whore?”

“When you let any male sniff at you and buttfu—” Brute slapped a hand over her mouth and growled low, Honor freezing in his arms.

“Emma, have you…” The males in the pride knew better than to sniff after his sisters, but he couldn’t control every human. And then there were the bunnies…

His youngest sister gave him a wide-eyed stare, nose wrinkled. “Uh, ew.”

Brute let out a sigh of relief. Good, he wouldn’t have to kill anyone. Today.

Snarls and growls filled the room then. All from Honor. God, he couldn’t wait until her hormones settled. Better yet, he couldn’t wait until his mother returned. He’d rather be doing anything other than wrangling two young lionesses. Anything. Having his fingernails ripped out with pliers ranked higher on his list.

“Everybody decent?” A thumping knock against the front door as it was pushed open followed the greeting and Brute sighed in relief, almost losing his hold on Honor in the process.

Grayson could get him out of this mess. The pride’s Second always managed to calm females. Brute figured it was because the male had fucked so many, but he didn’t really care how the other lion came by his ability. He just wanted his sister calm. And not trying to kill anyone.

“Yeah, we’re back here.”

The Second stepped into the kitchen, gaze sweeping the room before settling on Brute. “What’s doing, big guy?”

Emma didn’t look up from her breakfast, e-reader once again on before her. “Honor wants to kill Jenner because she thinks he’s her mate and she saw him going into Genesis with Gina Ernst. Brute said no because it’d upset the Prima which would upset the Prime which would end with bloody things for Brute. And because I don’t believe her, I’m a virgin whore.” Emma gave Brute her attention. “Anything to add?”

His mother should have left the thirteen-year-old in charge.

Another outraged yell and wiggle snatched his attention and he tightened his grip on the wriggling Honor. “Damn it.”

“Stop.” The Second’s voice was low and calm, a simple but powerful order that everyone followed without question.

Grayson’s attention turned to Honor in particular. “Jenner is not your mate.”


“He’s not. Period.” Grayson’s eyes flared to amber for a moment before settling back to brown.

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Deuces Wild

Squirrel shifter Elly has been captured by Freedom, beaten, and then handed off to be raped. Only her new hotter-than-hell jailor, Deuce Pierce, isn’t keen on forcing her and is all about saving her curvy, furry ass and getting her to safety. After she’s freed, she can’t forget about the lion who saved her life, and she hunts for him, determined to find the man who haunts her.

The council has tried to keep Deuce separated from Elly, convinced he’s abused her in some way, as if he would hurt his mate. He finally beats (literally) her location out of one of their soldiers, only to find she lives in the hometown he’d vowed to leave behind. His lush squirrel may be happy to see him, but the townspeople and their families take up where the council left off. Good thing he and Elly have wicked teeth, sharp claws, a gun or two, and more love than any two people ought to share. Because no one is going to separate them, come hell, high water, or shot-out knees.

Read an Excerpt

“Life is not WYSIWIG. There is no ‘what you see is what you get’ thing going on. Because, hey, people wear clothes and stuff. Or they’re liars. So, get ’em naked or shoot them. Just don’t get blood on the carpet.” — Maya O’Connell, Prima of the Ridgeville Pride and a woman who’s decided that twins are overrated and that two is never ever better than one.


Deuce wondered when the curvy little woman standing at Alistair’s back would make her move and rip out the polar bear’s jugular.

He guessed five minutes. This was unfortunate since he had a good hand and he figured he’d be winning pretty soon. He, Alistair—leader of Freedom, a shifter antiestablishment militant group—and two others had been sitting around the poker table for a few hours. Deuce was one flip of a card away from taking the last of the man’s money in this game of Texas Hold ’Em. The turn had been revealed and Alistair had raised. The rest of them called, easily meeting the new amount. Now he needed the river card to come through for him and he’d win the pot.

But the woman standing behind the leader and flanked by two guards looked like she’d happily end the polar bear’s life.

She was beautiful, despite the bruises and dried blood peppering her face. Deuce fought the attraction that had been prodding him since the moment he’d walked into the room and settled in a chair. Regardless of her wounds, she stood tall, glaring at Alistair anytime he chanced glancing at the female.

With the room filled with heavy, sweet cigar smoke, he couldn’t catch her scent. He wasn’t quite sure if she was a shifter or simply a human who’d caught the leader’s eye. Based on her fresh, deep bruises and the dirty looks she kept flashing to the room, the woman hadn’t been too keen on being taken.

He’d heard the rumors about the woman, speculation that she was anything ranging from a senator’s sister to the relative of a powerful shifter family. Deuce figured the latter explanation was closer to the truth.

He leaned forward, grabbed his quickly emptying can of light beer, and swallowed a mouthful of the bitter brew. Even after all these years, he had trouble getting past the taste of the specially formulated liquid.

“Can’t believe you drink that shit.” The grumbled words easily cut through the smoke-filled room. It was the hyena on his right. Big fucker. Without a doubt, he was twice as wide as Deuce. But Deuce had training on his side and the other guy knew it.

Deuce’s fangs burst from his gums in a flash and he hissed at the larger man. His lion purred in approval. He’d been going through this shit from the moment he’d joined Freedom, constantly having to prove his dominance over the others. It had gotten him this far, securing his place in Alistair’s inner circle and closer to his ultimate goal.

“Enough.” Alistair’s voice was quiet and Deuce’s beast wanted to turn his feral attention to the polar bear. In truth, the man wasn’t as strong, fast, or lethal as he and his lion, and it’d take no time to take him down.

But he couldn’t make his move, not yet, not when so much was still unanswered. He had a lot more intel to gather for the council. A lot more.

The woman suddenly moved, dived past her guards, and attacked the seated leader. She wrapped her fingers around Alistair’s throat with a flash of claws and encircled his neck, tips digging into the flesh at his throat.

Damn it.

Alistair’s men forced her to relinquish her grip, and then shoved her back, her body colliding with the wall and cracking the smooth surface.

Deuce swallowed his fury, pushed the lion in an effort to keep it from emerging. His beast lurked beneath his skin, rippling along his muscles. He forced his heart rate to remain steady, urged his cat to control itself. They couldn’t afford to let their true feelings show.

He hated violence against women, but there was nothing he could do. Not yet. He had a job to do and he couldn’t sacrifice his mission. He studied the men bracketing the woman and committed them to memory. When his job was complete, he’d visit those two in their jail cells. Privately.

Rage filled every line of the polar bear’s features and the man wiped at his bleeding wounds with a napkin. Placing the crumpled, red-tinged bit of cloth on the table, he rose and gave his back to the room. Alistair took two striding steps, blocking the dazed woman from Deuce’s gaze. The sound of flesh against flesh echoed through the silent room. Based on the thud, he figured it was a backhanded slap rather than a punch.

“Bitch.” Alistair spat the word and then, as if nothing had occurred, returned to his seat, easing into the padded chair.

The leader reached out and flipped the river card, appearing not to have let the interruption bother him in the least.

Deuce. Funny, last card revealed happened to be a wildcard.

Deuce took turns in observing the men surrounding the table from beneath his lashes, checking them all for tells he’d observed during their play. The guys to his left and right had nothing. Alistair remained.

He hadn’t discovered anything about the polar bear that would clue him in on the man’s hand. No flick of his eyes, throb of a vein, or dilation of his pupils. Nada.

A glance at the chips in front of Alistair revealed that the man didn’t have enough to even hit the minimum bet. Deuce wasn’t sure what the shifter was up to. He should have folded before now. Unless he’d been praying for a miracle.

With the last card faceup, the leader was set to begin this round.

“It seems I’m at a slight disadvantage.” The polar bear smirked. “Let’s make it interesting.”

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Sealed with a Purr

Going to Georgia in order to watch over a handful of women is not Harding’s idea of a good time. With the death of Alistair McCain—ex-leader of Freedom—there’s a lot of clean up going on. That includes helping Freedom’s released captives recover in a safe environment. Hence, Harding having to make the trip down south. Really…how hard could it be to keep five women safe? Harder than he thinks.

Because there are two women who hardly speak, another who hardly has an inch of control, and then another who feels the last woman rounding out the group should die. It’s that last woman—curvaceous, lush, and gorgeous—that intrigues him the most. Tess is beautiful, alluring, and…his.

Tess knows pain, hatred, and hopelessness. What she doesn’t know is hope or love. Harding Grange is tempting her to discover both…with him. The massive lion shifter entices her with his strength, torments her with his body, and lures her with his tortured memories. They have a painful past in common, but while he’s ready to jump into mating, she’s trying to figure out the easiest way for him to kill her if she goes crazy after she’s Changed. Because she is, after all, Alistair McCain’s daughter.


**Special thanks goes out to Lisa J for naming Maya's twins.  They'd still be nameless terrors without her!**


Read an Excerpt

“I’m more than willing to fight for what I believe in. I believe in ice cream, and I happen to know kung-fu. So, step away from the freezer before I bust out an ass kicking.” — Maya O’Connell, Prima of the Ridgeville Pride and woman who has a degree in ice cream flavors.

Nothing good ever happened when Maya was giddy. Harding knew that happy meant ice cream. Then again, sad meant ice cream, too. Angry meant yells followed by very loud make up sex with her mate, Alex…and ice cream.

But giddy? He shuddered. Giddy was bad. It accompanied…awesomesauce ideas.

Harding sighed. Unfortunately, it was his day to guard Maya. Since she was the pride’s Prima and mated to their leader, the

Prime, he had to follow her around. He had to keep her safe, of course, but he couldn’t rein her in like Alex did.

“Haaarrrdddiiinnnggg!” She yelled his name in a mixture of a scream and a whine.


Pushing out of the club chair, he rose to his six-foot five-inch height, and followed her voice through the pride house. His boots thumped against the tile in the hallway, his shoulders slumping further with every step. Couldn’t it have been Neal’s day? Or Brute’s? Nah, those two were newly mated and needed to be home with their families. The only two of Maya’s guards unmated were him and Wyatt, and even Wyatt had a human woman for the moment.

It was only Harding who didn’t have much of a life.

Standing out of sight outside the kitchen, he took a deep breath and fought for patience. No telling what was about to happen.

Dreading the coming conversation, he stepped into the room—or home-o-frozen-goodness—and found Maya sitting at the table, a carton of ice cream before her and Alex at her side.

God, things just got worse.

Giddy with ice cream and the potential for wild make-up sex. Why did they need him?

“There you are!” A large smile curved Maya’s lips.

“Prima.” Maybe deference would get a little sympathy from Alex. A glance at the Prime revealed that the lion wasn’t about to help him.

Damn it.

Even his inner-lion whimpered at what was to come. Was she rounding up a cavalry again to save someone who didn’t need saving? That had been a fun trip. By the time the guards (including their mates), and Maya and Alex (including their twins, Easton and Weston) had appeared, the fun had been over. Deuce had been saved by his squirrel mate, and Alistair McCain, ex-leader of Freedom, was dead. At the squirrel’s hand, er, gun. Maya had pouted.

Before that, she’d secretly rescued a sweet fox and also given birth. At the same time. On the side of the highway.

And before that…

“Are you even listening?” A glob of ice cream smacked Harding in the face, cold and wet.

He gave Maya his attention while snaring a napkin and wiping his cheek. “No, but I will now.”

Alex snorted.

Maya narrowed her eyes, glaring at him and then her mate. Now, Harding could just get yelled at and sent on home, but Alex…
“Did you just laugh at the Keeper of the Vagina? Queen of Vaginaville and Ruler of all Things Pink Bits Related?” Maya’s lips formed a thin, white line.

The Prime gulped. “Now, Maya…”

The Prima harrumphed and turned back to Harding. “So, the thing about it is…”

Nothing good ever came out of one of her sentences when she started it like that.

“I love you, Maya—” When Alex growled, Harding was quick to amend his statement. “As much as a single lion is allowed to. But can’t you ‘thing about it is’ someone else? Maybe Wyatt?”

Harding enjoyed his nice, boring life. It didn’t involve many others, but that meant there were fewer people who could turn on him. Because everyone did eventually. Maybe not today, but there was always tomorrow. His last pride had taught him all about tomorrow.

Maya gestured at him with her dripping spoon. “Sit and listen before you get too whiny.”

He did as ordered, but grumbled just the same.

“Now, Neal, Brute, and Deuce have mated. That leaves you and Wyatt unattached. But he’s got a human woman he’s been ‘dating.’” She made air quotes, chocolate dripping to the kitchen table. “That leaves you.”

“Okay.” He nodded. It was the same thought he’d had before he walked in.

“Yay!” She clapped and turned to Alex. “See how easy that was? I told you I could get him to agree!” Maya turned back to him. “Now, you need to pack. Probably for at least two weeks since that’s how long it’ll take the movers to get you your stuff. We’ll box up what you need and send it along. If you leave Maddy a list she’ll—”

She kept babbling on and on, his eyes growing wider by the word, until he’d finally had enough. He put two fingers into his mouth and whistled high and long, snaring Maya’s attention and stilling her words.

With her now silent, he looked to Alex. “What is she talking about?”

The Prime’s grin made him want to punch the lion in the face. He resisted the urge. Barely.

“The Council contacted me this morning—”

“Us.” Maya licked her spoon.

Alex rolled his eyes. “Us. And asked for one of our guards to go down to Georgia and relieve Stone. He’s being promoted to Council Liaison, and they need someone trustworthy, someone not too aggressive, but able to protect himself and his territory.”
Based on the Prime’s and Prima’s stares, he’d been elected.

“Define territory.” Stone, a gorilla shifter and Council tracker, had been in Georgia cleaning up a few messes left over by

Freedom. Harding hadn’t envied the man.

“A small compound in the mountains. It’s built into the mountain, actually.”

There was more. “Uh-huh. And?”

Maya slipped the spoon from her mouth. “And a few-ish women.”


**Special thanks goes out to Lisa J for naming Maya's twins.  They'd still be nameless terrors without her!**

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Like a Fox

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Published: September 17, 2013
Length: Short Story
Ridgeville #8
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Gavin Mara is a fox shifter passing through Ridgeville, just stopping to visit his sister. Then he’s traveling to Chicago to begin his job as Director of Communications for the Council. It’s supposed to be a small vacation before the stress begins. Alistair McCain—ex-leader of Freedom—is now dead, and the shifter world is in turmoil. While the Council sorts things out, it’s Gavin’s job to keep everyone electronically connected.

And he’ll get right onto that just as soon as he claims his curvy lioness, Gina.

Read an Excerpt

“Love at first sight doesn’t exist. There is, however, love after five orgasms in one boinking.”—Maya O’Connell, Prima of the Ridgeville Pride and woman in love. Alex is such a giver…

The alluring, seductive scent of his mate woke Gavin Mara from a dead-to-the-world sleep. He bolted upright with a gasp, rock-hard cock stiff between his legs and a sheen of sweat on his brow. He drew the flavors into his lungs, and he had no doubt that his mate was a cat…and very, very close by.

He took a deep breath… Yes, she was a purring lioness. He knew those underlying, feline scents. He’d been visiting his sister Elise in Ridgeville ever since she’d mated her werelion Brute, and Gavin had come to recognize the various shifters the town held.


Would she roar for him? Or better yet, purr?

The heavy aroma of breakfast from downstairs in the Drool and Dine reached out to him, distracting him momentarily. Well, his stomach, anyway.

Each time he visited his sister, he rented the room above the diner, unwilling to share Elise and Brute’s home. He liked the guy. He just didn’t want to listen to his sister have sex with the gigantic lion.

Rushing from the bed, he scrounged around for something to wear. He was spending his last week of peace in Ridgeville, and he’d wanted to visit with Elise before he began his job in Chicago with the Council. They’d hired him to be the Director of Communications. He snorted. Tech support with a fancy name.

Gavin tossed clothes around, sending T-shirts flying as he hunted for something freaking clean to put on. God, he should have taken his sister up on her offer to do his laundry a few days ago. But he’d had a plan, a stack of quarters, and a Laundromat down the street. Right.

Digging into the bottom of his suitcase, he came up victorious, clutching a semi-wrinkled, thin T-shirt he’d forgotten about.

“I Lick!” was emblazoned across the front in bright red letters.

His sister thought it’d get him a little action since “all ladies like a little downtown lovin’.”

Another round of searching netted him a pair of jeans with some sort of weird stain on the leg. He brought the fabric to his nose and sniffed. Well, at least it wasn’t a toddler by-product. He’d gotten enough of that from the pride Prima’s twins. The fuckers were messy little things.

The A/C kicked on, and more of his mate’s alluring scent drifted to him. Shit, he needed to get down there. Now. Before she managed to get away from him.

Gavin rushed to the front door, slipping into a pair of worn sneakers on the way, and then he was outside, pounding down the metal steps. Clang clang clang clang. He sprinted around the side of the building and raced toward the front entrance.

He looked through the windows and scanned faces while he ran, attention adeptly split between the space in front of him and the interior of the diner.

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Big Furry Deal

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Published: February 27, 2014
Length: Novel
Ridgeville #9
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Panther shifter Millie Walker is finally free, finally knows her real name, and finally… has a mate? Well, crap.

For Millie, having a mate is a horrible, no good, he’ll end up very dead, bad idea. She’s got what some refer to as a “control problem.” In other words: she has no control and that’s her problem. So, she stays away from others, keeps to herself, and generally tries not to kill people. Except the pride Prima—Maya—has this “awesomesauce” idea and suddenly Millie’s at a pride picnic surrounded by people… and then she meets her mate. Her tall, delicious, please-may-I-lick-you-from-head-to-toe mate. Now she prays her powers don’t suddenly decide Wyatt is better off six feet under.

Lion shifter Wyatt Dane knows he’s not the kind of man who takes a mate. His own mother proved he wasn’t worth loving. But then he meets Millie. Millie with her fiery hair, generous curves, and dangerous powers. He tries to resist her, forces himself to reject her, but then she returns and he realizes he can’t let her go. Her powers will just have to figure out how to deal with his presence. He’s keeping her. Period.

But someone from her past didn’t get the “she’s mated” memo and he’s determined to have her, no matter the cost.

Warning: Big Furry Deal contains kick ass violence, some potentially trigger content (what do we expect from the bad guy), and copious hilarity. Be prepared for laughing, crying, and cringing. As always, curvy women rock, boys drool-girls rule, and your mileage may vary.

Read an Excerpt

“Mil-lie!” Maya’s bellow vibrated the entire house. The Ridgeville Prima’s roar caught her off guard and her power shot to the surface in an agonizing rush, anticipating her need for protection. The lioness must have let herself into the house Millie shared with the Mastin sisters. The owner, Gina, recently mated and moved away, leaving the place empty and perfect for Millie and the sisters.

“Damn it, not now,” Millie whispered to herself and pushed back, shoved the hate deeper into her body and wrapped it up tight. “She’s the freaking Prima. The mate to the Prime and one of the people who can kick our ass to the curb.”

“I’m also the Queen of Booblandia, but whatevs.” Maya’s voice filled the room. “And talking to yourself can be a sign of schizophrenia. Are you schizophrenic?”

Millie smiled as she rolled off the bed and turned toward the bedroom door. “No, not schizophrenic.”

Maya narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure? I bet a schizophrenic person would say they weren’t schizophrenic to avoid wearing a straitjacket in a non-bondage-happy-fun-times way.”

Millie rolled her eyes. “I’m sure.”

The Prima smiled wide. “Good. That means you can have multiple personalities instead. Because then I’d get two, or more, new best friends instead of one.”

Millie tilted her head to the side, confusion filling her. “Huh?”

Maya rolled her eyes. “I swear, does no one follow a conversation here?” she huffed. “Gina-the-whore mated Gavin-the-dog, which left me down a best friend. So, you’re here now, and you talk,” Maya scrunched her nose. “Not that I’m saying anything bad about the Mastin sisters and their not talking thing. I mean, I’m not a totally insensitive bitch, right?” She waved her hands. “Anyway, I’ll apologize later. But what this all means is you take her place. Except you-you were supposed to be a new bestie. So now I’m down two besties. And that means you need to have multiple personalities and take up both spots.” Happiness and excitement filled Maya’s features. “Are you picking up what I’m putting down?”

Millie sifted through the babble. Okay, she knew Gina (a Ridgeville lioness) recently mated Gavin (a dog, er, fox and brother to another Ridgeville pride member). Which left this home empty and a Gina-sized hole in Maya’s life. But then there was the “you” and the “you-you” and…

“No.” Millie shook her head. “Not so much.”

Maya heaved a put-upon sigh. “None of you listen. Okay, let’s do this again.” The Prima straightened and held up a finger. “Gina-the-whore—”

“For the love of—Maya!” Alex, the Prime and Maya’s mate, yelled. His voice echoed through the house, causing the Prima to jump.

Millie wished that was all it did to her. No, the enraged part of her burst free of its moorings and shoved against her control. It sliced through layer after layer of her bindings and stretched the last that kept it within her body.

The memories made it too raw, too powerful. If only she’d had an hour, half an hour… hell, with a few minutes of quiet time, she could have ensured it was tied up tight and ready for visitors.

What?” The Prima seemed ignorant of her struggles.

“We’re late!”

Maya scoffed and turned toward the hall to yell at her mate. “We can’t be late. We’re the most important people there.”

Millie struggled to breathe. Her birth certificate slipped from her fingers, and she fisted her hands, digging her nails into the soft flesh of her palms. Her abilities scraped the last layer of her mental walls. It sensed Alex in the house. Part of it recognized him as a mated male, as someone who’d helped them, but another thought drifted forward. Even a mated male could beat a woman. Even a mated male could forc—

Panic set in, her heart racing as her lungs fought to bring air in and out of her body. Sweat beaded on her forehead, peppering her in the salty fluid. The scent of blood soon joined the others in the room, and the Prima’s gaze swung back to her.

Millie ignored the worry and shock in Maya’s gaze. She had her own crap.

Please, please, please. She wasn’t sure what she was begging for. Relief? Forgiveness? An end?

She was so tired, so tired of living this way day in and day out. For one moment she’d like to not have to worry about accidentally harming someone.

Maya.” Alex wasn’t giving up.

Maya ignored him and approached her. This was a different version of Maya, one that didn’t have a ready smile and obnoxious jokes on her lips. This one was worried with her brow scrunched and concern in her gaze. “Millie? Hon?”

She shook her head and took a step back. That part of her still fighting to break free attacked her to get at the one who’d scared them. Damn it. She’d knocked Harding on his ass months ago. At the time, he’d been down for the count for a day or two. Since being in Ridgeville, she’d grown stronger. She wasn’t sure what would happen if her power struck out now.

She remembered the glory of Harding’s nerves sliding over her palms as she manipulated his mind. It’d reveled in the flavors of his pain. The power had a taste for it now and she didn’t want to see what else it would enjoy.

Millie eased closer to the window. It opened to the backyard. She’d run, beg her cat to take control and carry them away from the house. She’d run and run and fight to keep away from everyone.

“Millie, it’s okay.” Maya took another step forward.

“Stop.” She held up a bloodied hand, trying to keep the Prima at bay.

“No, you’re not going to hurt me. You’re not going to hurt anyone.” The Prima eased closer.

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Lion’s Honor

Sometimes the Queen of the Jungle needs to lean on her King. Okay, she’s really not the queen and he’s totally not the king, but damn it, they need each other.

Four years ago, werelioness Honor Mauer walked away from Ridgeville and hopped on a plane bound for London. She had college dreams and none of them included her pesky maybe-mate Grayson. (Even if he is the hottest thing to ever walk on two legs—and four.)

All is fantastically furry in London until she goes through her first heat. Then her world collapses, her bright, obnoxious eyes dim, and she runs home with her tail tucked between her legs. Too bad the London werelion who sent her scurrying home decides to show up just as she’s feeling a little less psychotic. Bastard.

Werelion Grayson got his curvy, luscious mate back on U.S. soil and he refuses to let her go. He knows there’s a lot of emotional work to do, but he didn’t become Ridgeville’s Second by turning belly up at the first sign of trouble. She’s his. The quicker she realizes that—and opens her heart to healing—the better. He’s got a plan for a life filled with love, laughter, and cubs and it sorta requires her cooperation.

Just when he thinks her recovery is around the corner, the male who’d hurt Honor shows up in Ridgeville. Which is a good thing, really, since it gives Grayson a chance to kill him. It’s like Christmas in July.

Read an Excerpt

“I heard that fear eats the soul… As long as it doesn’t come after my ice cream, I’m cool with that. Who said I had a soul to begin with?” — Maya O’Connell, Prima of the Ridgeville Pride and woman who really does have a soul, but not much of one. She gave birth to the Devil’s spawns, after all. Er, she means her adorable, lovable, totally not evil twins, Easton and Weston. Right.

Ridgeville hadn’t changed in four years. At least, the airport hadn’t. The cracks in the tarmac outside Gate A were still present. A few weeds grew through the slender spaces and reached for the sun. A small dandelion peeked past the edge of one break, and Honor had the urge to pluck it from the ground and take it to Carly. The small wererabbit mated to Neal loved dandelions.

Of course, snaring the treat for the woman involved leaving the plane.

She wasn’t quite ready.

The scents of the pilot and flight attendant burned her nose, but they also intrigued her lioness. The man and woman were a mated pair, wererabbits from the Ridgeville Warren. But rabbits were not on the cat’s menu. That was a direct order from Maya, the pride’s Prima. And yet they still scented of prey and aroused the beast. The cat, still half broken and timid as hell, wanted to assert its dominance over those two. It wanted to be strong, able to care for itself.

Her cell phone rang, the soft song filling the Prime’s private plane while it also vibrated in her hand. She didn’t have to look at the caller ID to know who attempted to reach her. After sitting in the taxied plane for two hours and refusing to get out, she figured she should answer.

Honor swiped her thumb across the screen and brought it to her ear. “Hello.”

"Honor, how are you doing?”

She sighed and sank into the leather seat. Some of her tension, the worry and unease that’d chased her across the Atlantic, fled at the deep, masculine voice. “Prime.”

“Mm-hm. You feel like coming out?” Her Prime—Alex—sounded so calm. She wished she felt the same.

She swallowed and fought the rising panic in her soul. “I dunno.”

“Okay.” He paused. “Mind if I come in? We can walk out together.”

Now the panic shoved at her, pushed and struck her. “No.” She shook her head, even if he couldn’t see her. “No.”

“All right. Could you let the pilot and flight attendant go? Their kits are waiting for them at the sitter’s.”

She looked toward the small door at the front of the plane. The attendant had disappeared after Honor’s first snarl and flash of fang. The lion recognized them as delicious game, but she pushed down the need to chase them. They had children. Kits waiting on them, ones who called them “Mom” and “Dad.” She couldn’t tear them from the small ones.

“Yeah, okay.” She drew in a deep breath and cursed herself for the act. The rising fear from the pilot’s cabin teased the beast. “Lemme go in the bathroom first. Lock the door.”

“That sounds fine. Let me know when you’re there.” Alex didn’t seem the least bit stressed. He didn’t sound like a leader handling one of his edgy lions. A lion who was about to lose her shit inside his million-dollar private plane.

Honor rose and padded down the aisle, passing row after row of plush leather seats. All empty. It’d taken one call, a handful of sentences, and then her Prime sent for her. He’d facilitated her return to Ridgeville, and now waited patiently for her to deplane.

Alex generally wasn’t known for his patience.

At the end of the walkway, she grasped the polished handle on the bathroom door and turned the knob. She slowly stepped into the small enclosure, fighting her cat with every flex of muscle. It snarled and growled at her, shoving its instinctual need to dominate forward. After what they endured, they wanted power, control. The animal alternated between regret at its part in what happened months ago and the urge to assert its power over others.

She tugged the door closed and flipped the lock. Before speaking again, she flicked the toilet lid down and then lowered herself to the surface. She stared at the steel-reinforced panel that separated her from the rest of the plane.

“Okay. Tell them to go ahead.” She swallowed the saliva pooling in her mouth.

Can’t eat the rabbits. Can’t kill the rabbits. Can’t eat the rabbits…

The hushed whispers of the mated couple reached her. She couldn’t make out the words, but a new wave of their fear assaulted her.

“Prime.” Her voice shook with the effort.

“You’re not moving. Do you hear me, Honor? You. Will. Not. Move.” The words were a harsh order, her Prime’s displeasure and power imbuing every syllable.

The lion reacted, responded to their leader’s command, and immediately whined. It eased away, softly crying as it was pushed to the back of her mind. “Yes, Prime.”

Finally, the noises of their departure eased, and she didn’t hear a single sound. She was alone. Alone and safe.

“Can you come to me?” The gruff tone was gone, and he was back to the soothing, cajoling pitch.

“Maybe,” she whispered and stood, taking a single step to the door. She stroked the lock, fingers gliding over the shined surface, leaving fingerprints in her wake. “You’re alone?”

“Not a soul is at the airport, Honor. I gave you my word.”

He had. He’d promised no one would be around when she arrived.


“Open the door.”

She grasped the handle. A flick with her thumb disengaged the lock, and she turned the knob. The door swung open on silent hinges, and then he was there, Alex, her protector. “Prime.”

The cell phone slipped from her grasp, clattering to the carpeted floor. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t even pause for a moment.

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Ridgeville: Mating Instinct

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Published: May 1, 2016
Length: Boxed Set
Ridgeville #99
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**This is a boxed set of ALL Ridgeville books. If you own these titles individually, DO NOT purchase this book.**

The shifter men and curvy, growly ladies of Ridgeville have all huddled together in one massive volume. From Maya and Alex and all the way to Grayson and Honor, they're having fun, kicking butt, and getting mated in this collection.

Every shifter wants to get mated, right? They just have to follow their instincts.

The COMPLETE Ridgeville series books 1-11:
He Ain't Lion
You're Lion
Ball of Furry
Head Over Tail
Fierce in Fur
Deuces Wild
Sealed with a Purr
Like a Fox
Big Furry Deal
Lion's Honor
Freaking Purrfect


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Freaking Purrfect

Amazon Nook Kobo Apple Books Google Play

Published: November 29, 2016
Length: Short Story
Ridgeville #12

Maya has always wanted a hedgehog shifter in the Ridgeville pride. She almost stole one once, but she sorta went into labor before Operation Quill Catcher took off. Now, she wonders if having a werehedgie is all it’s cracked up to be. After “borrowing” (kidnapping and/or saving… depending on who’s asked) a werehedgehog her daughter has to run for her life, her mate has to take a life, and one of her sons thinks hedgehog is on the menu.

And as for the hedgehog… she’s freaking purrfect.

This short story is set in the RIDGEVILLE SERIES and does not stand alone. This is a little bite of family life for those who fell in love with the Ridgeville gang and aren’t ready to let them go.

Read an Excerpt

“Ladies, if someone tells you that you’ll forget the pain of childbirth, they’re straight up liars.  The reminder of that pain is a whining, crying, poop factory that sticks around until its eighteen, and its sole purpose in life is to clam jam its mother when she wants to get her freak on.”  -- Maya O’Connell, Prima of the Ridgeville pride and woman who most recently had her taco block-o-ed by the aforementioned spawns of Satan.

Maya hadn’t killed her children yet, and she didn’t want to ruin a nice fourteen-year streak over a…

Screw it. Yes, yes she did want to ruin the streak.

She breathed deeply and sought calm, trying very hard not to scream the house down.  Her inner lioness told her to rip their den apart with her bare claws until they found the little rodents.

Not that her kids were rodents, but it was easier to kill them if she thought of them as mice and not, well, her kids.

No, no, no… She couldn’t get rid of them yet. She’d have to wait until after dinner. If she hunted them right that second, she’d have to explain everything to Alex, and then he’d try to be the one to kill them. He was not stealing her bloody, claw-tipped thunder this time. Which meant she had to keep her overwhelming ragefire—anyone but her kids would get hatefire—under wraps.

She drew in another slow breath, fighting for a calm that seemed totally out of reach, and got a lungful of… Alex.

Alex, her mate.

Alex, the father of her children.

Alex, worshipper of the vagina.  At the moment, she really wished he was in a worshipping mood because that was the only thing that would fix the hot mess surrounding her. And by hot mess, she meant the completely missing spread of bow-chicka-bow-bow-inducing delicacies that’d previously decorated the dining room table.  All that was left were a few scraps and very familiar claw marks marring the solid wood surface.

If she had to tell her kids no claws in the house one more time… Well, she already planned on murdering them, so she’d just make sure it was painful.

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