Monday, November 30, 2015

Guest Blog + Giveaway: Wildfire by J.D. Wright

UFI welcomes Author J.D. Wright. Thanks for Joining us!!

Everealm characters play… The Newlywed Game!

Okay, so maybe they aren’t married yet, but I thought it would be fun to play a round of the Newlywed Game with our two favorite couples: Bree & Rowan and Dagan & Sidonie!

I will be asking the questions, so when you see “J.D.”, you will know it is me! Here we go!

J.D.: Gentlemen, we asked your lovely ladies two questions. Let’s see if you can guess their answers. Question number 1! What does your lady say is your most annoying habit or quality?

Rowan: Probably my knives. I have a habit of toying with them when I’m bored.
Bree: His knives.

Dagan: I don’t think I have any annoying habits.
Sidonie: His sulking when he doesn’t get his way.
Dagan: I do not sulk.
Sidonie: You cause rain clouds to form over the castle. When you are sulking, the entire kingdom knows it. It’s embarrassing.

J.D.: Yikes! Okay, round one goes to Browan (Bree + Rowan). Question number 2! What is your lady’s favorite comfort food?

Rowan: That’s easy. Apple tarts.
Bree: Apple tarts! My absolute favorite.

Dagan: Smoked fish. It reminds her of when she used to live with the Sabras.
Sidonie: Yes, definitely fish. I’m surprised you remembered!

J.D.: That round ends in in a tie! Now we switch and ask our ladies the same two questions. Question number 1! What does your man say is your most annoying habit or quality?

Bree: Probably my obsession with books. I’m always reading.
Rowan: Her need to always have the last word.
Bree: I do not!

Sidonie: I have a bad habit of getting into dangerous situations. Even when it isn’t my fault.
Dagan: She attracts danger.
Sidonie: I do. It’s almost as if there is a demon narrator who is constantly putting me into danger.

J.D.: *snickers* Round one goes to Sidagan (Sidonie + Dagan) this time! Question number 2! What is your man’s favorite comfort food?
Bree: He loves honey brittle.
Rowan: Honey brittle.

Sidonie: He eats everything. Literally, everything.
Dagan: Venison. But she’s right. I eat everything. Twice, usually.

J.D.: Well, ladies and gentlemen, it appears Bree and Rowan are our winners!

Dagan: It isn’t fair when you think about it. They’ve known each other since they were children.

Rowan: Are you going to sulk, wizard?

Dagan: Don’t make me hurt you.

Writing has always been a hobby of mine, beginning as a young child. It was a way to cope with losing my father at seven years of age. I started with poetry and was featured several times on the amazing poetry blog, Autumn Leaves, by Sondra Ball. My love for poetry soon led to writing songs in middle school and beyond, which I still do occasionally. Music has always been an important part of my existence, so writing songs came naturally to me. In high school, I started my own novel, however, life got in the way and I never finished it.

Fast forward many years later and I find myself married with four children, absorbed in my busy life with commitments to my family, work, school, church, and charities, among other things. One day I came across my old binder, with notes from my first novel, and it was with those notes that I conjured up the elusive Everealm.

I write to please readers such as myself, who have a love for fantasy and romance, but like a little danger and sex in their reading. I wrote the book with a mature audience in mind, who can appreciate a hearty imaginary world with magic and the unknown, but want more than fluffy love stories with wizards in them. They want the romance, magic, and danger, all wrapped into one.

Find J.D. Wright and her books

Everealm #2
Amazon Barnes and Noble
Book 1 Everealm Free for Kindle November 23-27 
The journey through Everealm continues as new evil arrives, casting mayhem about the realm. While war and wildfire are causing disorder, Bree and Rowan find that assistance from the fairies isn't what they imagined. As Dagan and Sidonie seek answers to uncover the truth about her family and her magic, they are plagued with even more mystery to unveil. As the wildfire burns, who will be left standing in the ashes?


Isabelle took another sip and sat her goblet down, looking around at her children. Xavier looked miserable and tired. Tristan appeared bored and Rianne seemed ready to flee at any moment. Seeing no better time to share her news, she cleared her throat.
“It has been several weeks since we’ve all shared an early meal together,” she said. “And I know that you have much more important matters to attend to so I will not keep you long.”
“We’re here for as long as you’d like, Mother,” Tristan said, earning a sharp glare from his brother across the table.
“Actually, the seamstress is on her way here to fit me for a new gown,” Rianne said, hoping it may excuse her. However, her mother paid her no mind.
“I have some news to share with you and wanted to do it in private. I would prefer your father be here, but I suspect this time is as good as any.” The queen paused for a moment to make sure that she had their attention. Then she turned to her daughter and continued.
“Rianne, your father has received a proposal for your hand in marriage from King Carneath.”
“King Carneath?” Rianne asked.
“I don’t understand. I didn’t think King Carneath had a son.”
“He doesn’t,” Tristan said, frowning. He realized immediately what his sister had yet to understand.
“Then, who am I supposed to ma—” She stopped, finally grasping what her mother was trying to say. “You mean him, the king? Don’t you?”
“I do,” her mother replied.
“But Carneath is over twice my age! Father would never consider such a proposal.” Rianne was sure of it.
“He is considering it.”
“That simply cannot be true! What does he want with a new wife anyway? His first wife had given him several daughters before she died. Right?”
“Three of them,” Tristan added.
“Precisely!” Rianne shouted. “Why would he need to remarry?”
“I suppose he wants a son. Or perhaps he is lonely. It is also possible that he wants a mother for his children. Honestly, that is something I cannot answer,” Isabelle said, keeping calm.
“Mother to his children? I am only a few years older than those children, myself!”
“I find it hard to believe that Father would consider this proposal, as well,” Tristan said. “What could we possibly gain from the arrangement?”
“I have yet to be informed of the details, but I gather it involves acreage of Carneath land to the north, to expand our orchards.”
“Orchards? Is that all my future is worth? A few acres of land to plant more trees? We already have more trees than people in this wretched place.”
“Rianne,” her mother warned. “Your tone is unwelcome at my table.”
“My tone? What about my happiness? Is that unwelcome, too?”
Unable to control her emotions, Rianne stood and excused herself. She turned away from her mother and walked, quickly, back into the castle. She had made it all the way to her room before Tristan caught up with her. He found her curled up on the window seat, crying.
“Go away!”
“I know it may not seem like it right now, but everything will be alright.”
“Is that supposed to comfort her?” Xavier said, entering the room and closing the door behind him.
“What am I supposed to say?” Tristan said, standing beside the bedpost. “If Father approves the proposal, there is nothing anyone can do about it.”
Xavier shook his head at his brother and sat beside Rianne, who crawled over to cry on his arm.
“It isn’t fair. Tristan is to marry a princess who is young and beautiful. The same age as I am, even. And I have to marry an old man!”
“For all we know, Tristan’s princess may be ugly,” Xavier teased. “With a pig nose and warts all over. Hell, he hasn’t seen her since she was a baby. She could be a real hag of a lady.”
Rianne sat up, chuckling. Her light brown hair that had been pinned atop her head was now falling down and her perfect porcelain skin was blotchy from crying.
“I probably won’t even get to see her if I am married before their wedding,” Rianne frowned. “This entire idea is ridiculous! There are plenty of eligible women in the realm. Junacave, Moorine, Veyace. Why doesn’t he marry one of them? Why me?”
“The Princess of Junacave just became the queen, so she is no longer a prospect, I suspect,” Tristan said. “Moorine is on the other side of the Valerian Mountains, so Carneath land would be of no use to them. And the daughters in Veyace are still quite young.”
He looked up to see his brother and sister scowling at him.
“Constantly, the deliverer of unhelpful thoughts,” Xavier mumbled.

Tour Wide
Paperback copies of Everealm & Wildfire
Pair of hand-made jewel earrings

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Sunday, November 29, 2015

Week in Review: 11/22-11/28

Books Received for Review

- None this week!

Books I've Read

Tarnished by Kate Birch Jarvik
Earth by Jaymin Eve
Matefinder by Leia Stone
Devi by Leia Stone

Reviews Posted

Dragon Marked by Jaymin Eve


* New Releases for the week. Was there anything you were looking forward to reading?

* Tuesday- Interview + Giveaway for Sibilance by Aria Kane

* Wednesday- Guest Blog for Dragon Maid + Dragon's Dare by Ann Gimpel

* Friday- Promo + Giveaway for In the Company of Wolves by Paige Tyler


* Did you know you can follow UFI on these other sites?

You can also add me (as in Stacy) to your friends on these sites if you're on them.

 * I love comments so if you see something you like (or not) please comment away and let me know.

Friday, November 27, 2015

Promo + Giveaway: In the Company of Wolves by Paige Tyler

This December, Paige Tyler releases the third in her action-packed SWAT series, IN THE COMPANY OF WOLVES. To celebrate the release of IN THE COMPANY OF WOLVES, Paige Tyler stopped by to tell us about one of her favorite fun loving heroes in pop culture and to share an excerpt showcasing her own hero’s fun loving side! 

Paige Tyler: Everyone loves reading about alpha males, right? But of course, you can’t have a single dimensional character that’s just hardcore alpha all the time. It comes off as flat or just plain irritating. Most of the time you want to let your alpha have a lighter side, just to keep things interesting. One of my favorite fun loving heroes from popular culture is Stiles Stilinski! 

Dylan O’Brien plays a very unique character from one of my other favorite TV series Teen Wolf. While he may not seem to fit the bill as your prototypical alpha—he’s kind of on the small side and tends to get used for comedy relief—he still has the courage to throw himself into any situation against any kind of monster to help a friend. He might be terrified while he’s doing it, but he’s going to do it anyway. He’s bold enough to get the girl and funny enough to make us all laugh, even in the midst of a show that seems all too willing to kill off major characters whenever they feel like it.

In the Company of Wolves
SWAT: Special Wolf Alpha Team #3
He opened his mouth to order her to drop the MP5 she had aimed at him, but nothing would come out. It was like she’d robbed him of the ability to speak. Shooting her wasn’t an option, though. And the idea of arresting her didn’t make him feel any better.

There's a new gang of criminals in town who are organized and ruthless in the extreme. When Eric Becker, along with the rest of the Dallas SWAT team, ends up in the middle of a shootout, he immediately senses werewolves-a lot of them. Turns out, the new bad guys are a pack of wolf shifters.

In a spray of gunfire, Becker comes face-to-face with the most gorgeous woman he's ever seen. Becker does the logical thing. He hides her and leaves the scene with the rest of his team.

Jayna Winston has no idea why that SWAT guy helped her, but she's glad he did. Ever since she and her pack mates got mixed up with those Eastern European mobsters, everything had pretty much fallen apart.

So what's a street-savvy thief like Jayna going to do with a hot alpha-male wolf who's a police officer?
Purchase your copy today:
Barnes and Noble:


One of the Albanians shouted something from the front of the store in his own language, following it up with an order to the omegas to stop wasting time and get the damn safe open. Becker ground his teeth. He should have simply kidnapped Jayna and her entire pack. Then he could have just walked into the loft and shot every one of these idiots—twice.
“Watch them,” he told Jayna, motioning to the security guard and two women. Turning, he left the break room and jogged down the hallway toward the back of the building.
“Get them back on the safe!” the Albanian driver shouted at him from the front room.
Oh yeah, sure. Stop two morons from raping a woman and get them back on task. What the hell was he—a daycare worker for omega werewolves?
Shit. If this was how criminals behaved, it was no wonder he and his SWAT teammates took so many of them down. They were too stupid to live. Then again, maybe this was how Gage felt some days. The SWAT pack could occasionally be a little stupid too. Becker’s current predicament was a shining example of that.
The omega standing guard in the hallway outside the manager’s office glared at him. “We got this. Go back and babysit the old folks.”
What a complete ass, Becker thought as he walked up and punched the guy in the face. The werewolf flew backward and bounced off the wall, bleeding like crazy from a broken nose as he fell to the floor in a dazed heap. He was still moving around though, reminding Becker that it was as hard to knock out an omega as it was to knock out an alpha. He’d have to remember that.
Becker strode into the office to find the store manager on the floor beside her desk, the other omega—the one who liked to play with his platinum medallion—leaning over her menacingly. He’d torn her blouse and was telling her all the horrible things he planned to do to her if she didn’t open the safe. The idiot was so intent on threatening her that he didn’t realize Becker was there until he yanked the guy to his feet and spun him around, then smashed the back of his head into the nearest hard object he could find—the safe panel. Becker pounded his head into the safe a few times before letting him fall to the floor. The asshole was definitely out cold.
Becker turned and looked at the shop manager. She cringed away from him, terror in her eyes as she tried to hold the tatters of her blouse together. He really wished he could pull up his ski mask. Seeing him like this definitely wasn’t helping.
Do you have an alarm button in this room?” he asked in his softest, least intimidating voice.
The woman stared at him for a moment like he was insane, then motioned under the desk with a shaking hand.
“Would you mind pushing it for me?” he asked.
Now she looked really confused. But she slowly reached under the desk and poked around until a loud alarm started ringing.
“Thanks.” Becker bent down to take the platinum medallion out of the omega’s vest and slip it into his pocket. “By the way, that diamond merchant you bought from in New York sold you out to a really bad guy. You probably don’t want to buy from him anymore.” Turning, he jogged out of the room and down the hallway to the front of the store. “Time to leave. Moron hit the alarm.”
Jayna was heading his way in a flash, the two Albanians right behind her.
“What about the safe?” the driver asked.
Becker shook his head. “It’s a no-go. Our guy smashed the keypad.”
The Albanians muttered something in their native language and shook their heads, as if they’d seen this coming. They stepped over the omega who was still rolling around in a daze on the floor in the hallway and raced out the back door. In the distance, sirens echoed in the air. About damn time. Becker motioned Jayna out.
“What about him?” she asked, jerking her head at the werewolf still trying to get to his knees.
Becker nudged the omega with his boot, pushing him back down. The guy looked like he really didn’t want to bother getting up this time.
“What about him?” Becker said, holding the door open for her.


Paige is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of sexy romantic suspense and paranormal romance. She graduated from The University of West Florida with a degree in education in 2000, but decided to pursue a full- time career as a writer in 2004. Since then, she’s written over fifty books in several genres, including paranormal, contemporary, western, sci-fi and erotica. She loves writing about strong, sexy, alpha males and the feisty, independent women who fall for them. From verbal foreplay to sexual heat, her stories of romance, adventure, suspense, passion and true love will leave you breathlessly panting for more.

 She and her very own military hero (also known as her husband) live on the beautiful Florida coast with their adorable fur baby (also known as their dog). Paige graduated with a degree in education, but decided to pursue her passion and write books about hunky alpha males and the kick-butt heroines who fall in love with them.

When not working on her latest book, Paige enjoys reading, jogging, P90X, Yoga, Pilates, going to the beach, watching NFL football, watching movies and hanging out with her husband (not necessarily in that order!)

Find Paige and her books
Tour Wide

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Thursday, November 26, 2015

Happy Thanksgiving...

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

I know not all my readers are in the USA, so Happy Thursday to everyone else, it's almost Friday!

For those in the US. What are your holiday plans? Do you shop Black Friday?

Wednesday, November 25, 2015

Guest Blog: Dragon Maid + Dragon's Dare by Ann Gimpel

UFI welcomes Author Ann Gimpel. Thanks for Joining us!!

Backcountry Magic
People sometimes ask me why I use the backcountry as a setting for some of my paranormal stories. It’s easy enough to answer. I’ve spent thousands of days with a pack on my back. No, that’s not an exaggeration. I’ve climbed all over the world, though never any of the eight thousand meter peaks in the Himalaya.
I’ve had more than a few, um, unusual experiences far from other people, and often far from any sort of maintained trail. One common event is hearing someone behind me. Of course when I turn around, there’s no one there. Sometimes, if I listen carefully, whoever’s not there actually talks with me. It’s how I’ve come up with some of my more interesting story ideas.
Another thing that happens far from civilization is sort of a sixth sense. I have something—who knows, maybe it’s a guardian angel—that keeps me safe. It tells me if a snow slope is unstable or a route unsafe. I’ve learned to listen to it. Backcountry survival is a blend of luck and skill. One or the other by itself often isn’t enough.
In the modern world, it’s a treat to get away from electronics and instant availability, sort of a retreat to our roots as more primitive people. What better place to find romance? He’s not texting. He’s putting up the tent. She’s not yammering with her girlfriends, she’s mixing up freeze-dried glop for dinner. You have to rely on each other and pay attention to one another, too. I’ve seen more than one couple who couldn’t get along in the backcountry. Their relationships never lasted long in the front country, either. You learn to work together as a team and to appreciate one another’s strengths. If you can’t do that, you don’t go on many more trips together.
At least in my life, out of the way places have been a crucible to strengthen my marriage. We’ve returned from many an adventure more strongly bonded as a couple than before. And when you get right down to it, romance is looking at your partner with love shining from your eyes. Sure they have faults. We all do. But you turn a blind eye to them. It’s a glass half full phenomenon. We pick what we want to see.
There’s a reason so many people read romance. It’s a metaphor for what we want in our lives. We all want our HEA with the one person who makes us feel loved and special. Want to find out if your relationship will go the distance? Go backpacking together. Travel to a third world country. Face adversity greater than, “Aw crap, we’re out of milk.” If you can work together rather than blaming one another for why something isn’t working, I’d say you picked a winner.
Any stories you’d like to share? When did you know your current love was Mr. or Ms. Right? What tipped you off?

Ann Gimpel is a national bestselling author. A lifelong aficionado of the unusual, she began writing speculative fiction a few years ago. Since then her short fiction has appeared in a number of webzines and anthologies. Her longer books run the gamut from urban fantasy to paranormal romance. Once upon a time, she nurtured clients, now she nurtures dark, gritty fantasy stories that push hard against reality. When she’s not writing, she’s in the backcountry getting down and dirty with her camera. She’s published over 30 books to date, with several more planned for 2015 and beyond. A husband, grown children, grandchildren and three wolf hybrids round out her family.

Find Ann and her books

Dragon Maid
Dragon Lore #2
Amazon Barnes and Noble iTunes Kobo
When pressed, Jonathan Shea admits magic runs through his blood, but he’s always been ambivalent about it—until a dragon and her mage show up in the Scottish Highlands, and then all bets are off. Jonathan’s charmed and captivated by the dragon—a creature fresh out of myth and legend—but the woman bonded to the dragon is so enticing, he tosses caution to the winds and dives into the magical power he’s avoided for so long.

Britta and her dragon prepare for a battle to save Earth. Freshly transplanted from a much earlier time, she feels awkward, out of place. The first person she lays eyes on is Jonathan. There’s something about him. She can’t quite pinpoint it, but he has way more magic than he lets on. Magic aside, it runs deeper than that. For the first time ever, she questions the wisdom of remaining a maid. If she doesn’t make up her mind damned fast, though, her choices will fritter away. Beset from every side, she’s never needed her magical ability more.

Surrounded by dragon shifters, Celtic gods, Selkies, time travel, and a heaping portion of magic, Jonathan comes into his own fast. Fell creatures target him, Britta, and her dragon. In the midst of chaos, he and Britta find scorching passion and love so heartbreakingly tender, it will change their lives forever.

…Jonathan tried not to stare, but it was a losing battle. The woman—no, the dragon shifter—was the most perfect, the most alluring, creature he’d ever laid eyes on. Tall, with high, rounded breasts, a slender waist, and curvy hips, she looked like a goddess. Who knew? Maybe she was. The Celts had many deities. He fumbled with his rucksack and pulled out a turkey sandwich on rye bread, which he handed to her.
She yanked the wrappings aside, dropping them onto the floor while she stuffed food into her mouth, chewing and swallowing quickly. “Ye said there were two of these meat and bread things.” Britta surveyed him, her golden eyes alight with interest.
“Yes, I did. If I give you both, I’ll be hungry.”
She shrugged. “Not my problem. Also, I requested mead.”
Jonathan’s lips twitched. He corralled the smile that wanted out. Britta was an imperious bitch, yet there was something so undeniably appealing about her straightforward nature, it was impossible to feel offended. “No mead. At least I don’t have any. We could ask the other witches, or if we found you some clothes, we could go into the city and buy a proper meal, and as much to drink as you wanted.”
She cocked her head to one side and popped the last bite of sandwich into her mouth. “I can go as I am. Shall we walk or use magic, witch?”
“Um, no, you can’t go as you are. You’d be arrested.”
She tilted her chin up. “Why? I can see where I might freeze to death, but who would give a jolly fuck whether I’m dressed or not?”
Before he could craft an explanation, Kheladin stalked over, trailed by three female witches stroking the scales on his lower body. “Lachlan kept a clothes chest against the far wall.” He pointed with a talon. “I’m certain some of his shirts and tights would work, though there’s little to be done by way of shoes.”
Britta’s gaze landed on a particularly large heap of gold jewelry and coins. “I could borrow a bit of money from your hoard, just a coin or two, and—”
Kheladin’s eyes whirled faster, glittering dangerously. “I doona think so. Unless your First Born bondmate orders me.”
“No need to disturb Tarika.” Britta turned a brilliant smile on Jonathan and tapped his chest with her index finger. “He can buy me what I need.” Magic shimmered around her. “Come close, witch. We’re leaving.”
Kheladin stumped to Britta’s side. The counter spell he summoned to dampen her power sparkled, and multi-hued strands wrapped around her. Her lips curled in fury, and she raised her hands to call magic of her own.
“Not so fast,” Kheladin snapped. “First, ye’ve forgotten ye need clothes. Second, Tarika was in an all-fired hurry to find me. Such a big hurry, ye went without food or rest. Why?”
Britta shook her head so hard, her hair danced about her body. She swept the heels of her hands down her cheeks, distorting her perfect features. “Och aye, whatever is wrong with me? Nay, I know the answer. The Morrigan is furious because Lachlan triumphed over the black and red wyverns, and their dragon shifter mages.”
“Good the old Battle Crow even noticed,” Kheladin growled and breathed a fiery gout of flames.
“She did more than notice. She cast a spell to disrupt our memories out of sheer meanness. If ye wouldna have reminded me… Hell, ’tis surprised I am we got here at all. The Celtic gods, Gwydion and Arawn, sent us to warn you and Lachlan. They told us their magic would trump the Morrigan’s, but not forever.” One corner of her mouth turned down. “’Twould appear I just ran up against forever. Or mayhap their magic got subverted by your wards.”
“What impact has the Morrigan’s mischief had on the rest of our kind?”
“Those in Fire Mountain are safe so long as they remain there. The memory-altering spell only snares them when they set foot on Earth.”
“We just saw Gwydion, Arawn, and Ceridwen, and they dinna tell us aught of any such casting. Did they try to neutralize it?”
She cast a look Kheladin’s way that said he should ask something worth her time answering.
Jonathan watched the exchange, chest tight with excitement, feeling he’d fallen into one of the old tales where heroes and heroines walked among humans.
“Let me try again.” Kheladin sounded exasperated. “Did the Morrigan wake the black wyvern’s mage, Rhukon?”
“’Twas the first thing she did.”
“So all our effort was for naught.” The dragon clanked his jaws together. “I must alert Lachlan. Where’d the Celts find you? And how long ago?”
Britta rolled her eyes. “Not in Fire Mountain, though I admit Tarika and I retreated there after Rhukon, Connor, and their dragons teamed with the Morrigan, and things werena looking good. Nay, the Celts plucked us out of the sixteen hundreds. They told us enough about what the future holds to alarm us and sent us on our way.”
“Aye, and how long ago was that,” Kheladin prodded.”
“Mayhap a week. Tarika had things to attend to afore we could come. Why is that important?”
“Because Lachlan and I just sought them out, and they reminded us they doona censure their own, meaning they have no plans to clip the Battle Crow’s wings.”
“I believe I understand.” Tarika forced her voice through Britta’s vocal chords. “They rousted us out to excuse themselves from action. Craven bastards, the lot of them.” Fire rolled from Britta’s mouth.
“For the love of the goddess,” she sputtered from around flames. “Stop that.”
Kheladin inclined his head. “Though the circumstances leave much to be desired, thank you for coming.”
A warm smile lit Britta’s face. It softened her features and made her look barely more than a girl. Jonathan’s cock stiffened where it pressed against his jeans. Breath caught in his throat, and he fought against touching her, running his hands down her golden skin. He drew magic around himself to mask his lust, make it unobtrusive, but she noticed anyway.
Britta turned an appraising glance his way. “Aye, ye’d do well to hide your rut from me.”
Embarrassed at being caught out but curious too, he asked, “Why?”
She tossed her head at Kheladin. “Tell him, dragon. Mayhap he’ll believe it if he hears it from another, ahem, male.” Her last word dripped sarcasm…

Dragon's Dare
Dragon Lore #2
Amazon    Barnes and Noble   iTunes    Kobo
Tumble off reality’s edge into myth, magic, and Scottish dragon shifters
Book Description:

Bloated on chaos, the Morrigan leaves the Scottish Highlands to gather power. A trip through Hell yields quite the assortment of allies tagging along behind her. Fell creatures straight out of myth and nightmare that haven’t darkened Earth’s boundaries for centuries heed her call.

Heartily sick of the Morrigan’s maneuvering, the dragons are close to shutting their world off from everywhere, Earth included. If they do, every dragon shifter bond will be broken. Horrified, Lachlan and Britta launch a desperate campaign to hang onto their dragons.
Magic may bite back, but if the dragons take their magic ball and go home, Earth will fade, along with all other worlds. That suits the Morrigan fine. War and anarchy are her favorite companions, and she collects misery like children gather beloved toys.

Arianrhod’s fellow Celts found out about her fall from grace and her half-Druid son, Jonathan. With nothing further to hide, she goes back in time hunting Angus, Jonathan’s father. Forty years apart was a steep price to pay. The world needs Angus’s magic. And Jonathan needs all the help he can get. Late to accept the power thrumming through him, he holds a key role in keeping the world from spinning off its axis. Reluctant at first, Jonathan finally gets it.

Absolute focus.

Absolute commitment.

Anything less and everyone he loves will pay an unthinkable price.

…Jonathan Shea cradled Britta in his arms. She was asleep, the rhythm and cadence of her breathing revealed her exhaustion. He still couldn’t believe he’d found a mate, and a woman linked to a dragon at that. Britta KilKerran was actually the Countess of Cumbria, or she had been a few hundred years back. He wasn’t certain such a title still existed.
It didn’t matter. He’d offer up his life to protect the woman slumbering against his chest. He loved her dragon too, but Tarika scarcely needed his protection. When he thought of the scarlet-scaled dragon, one of the First Born, the place on his neck where she’d marked him with a mating bite tingled. It was her contribution to his bond with Britta.
She stirred in his arms. He stroked strands of long, red-gold hair away from her face and spun a small spell to keep her asleep. They’d just come from a major battle to free Tarika and Kheladin, another dragon, from the Morrigan’s clutches. Both of them needed rest, but his heart and mind were too full to let go quite yet.
After years of never believing the rumor about his mother being a Celtic deity, he’d finally met her. He brought it on himself by calling for her when they desperately needed help, but he never believed she’d actually show up. Regardless, he couldn’t deny her existence anymore—no matter how much he might want to. Arianrhod had abandoned him when he was so young he had no memories of her, and when he cut to the bone of things, he resented the crap out of her neglect.
Jonathan shut his eyes for a moment and summoned an image of his father. Tall and rangy with shaggy, rich brown hair and amber eyes, Angus had been a dreamer. He did his best for Jonathan, but often as not, he’d been caught up in some trance state or another. Though Angus hadn’t said so, Jonathan understood his father was relieved when he grew old enough to be on his own. Once Jonathan left Ireland, Angus vanished. Their modest cabin near Inishowen remained, but Jonathan knew better than to waste time hunting for a man who didn’t wish to be found.
Had Arianrhod seen Angus all these years he’d been missing? Jonathan could ask her, but she might just stare him down with those inscrutable eyes—one gold, the other silver—and not bother to answer.
He tightened his hold on Britta, and she nestled closer. She was more comfortable about Arianrhod being his mother than he was, but then she was far more comfortable with magic in general. He blew out a breath, recognizing his life would never be the same.
Not that he wanted it to be, but he would’ve preferred finding the love of his life without having to deal with a long-lost parent. Particularly one who stirred up a welter of prickly feelings. Now if Angus were to show back up, it would be a different story…
Britta wriggled against him, and her golden eyes flickered open. She regarded him sleepily through thick red lashes. “Ye canna rest, my love?”
Jonathan shrugged and offered a sheepish smile. “Lots to think about.”
She cupped the side of his face in one hand. “Do ye wish to talk about anything?”
He shrugged again, feeling uncomfortable. What was there to say, really? He was a little old to be struggling with parent issues. Besides he’d long since come to terms with his father’s magic being too pervasive for him to spend much time around normal humans. Jonathan dealt with some level of that as well, but his job as a software engineer who designed games let him keep to himself.
Britta brushed her hand across his lips. “Whenever ye wish, I’ll be here. Tarika too. She’s verra old and much wiser than either of us. If ye canna get the information elsewhere, mayhap we can figure out what sort of hold the Celtic gods had on your da.”
“Thank you. I’ll keep it in mind.” Jonathan reached around her and snagged a bottle of Irish whiskey off the nightstand. “Would you like some? I can get us glasses.”
“Och, and I can drink from the bottle. No need to get fancy.”
She smiled, and it transformed her into something so striking he couldn’t look away. A high forehead gave way to sculpted cheekbones and a defined chin. One of his old T-shirts covered her from chest to knees, but the outline of her breasts was clearly visible through the well-aged beige fabric.
His cock stirred, and he rolled his eyes. “We made love twice after we got here. I don’t understand why I can’t get enough of you.”
“Are ye complaining?” She quirked an arched red brow.
He shook his head and drew both of them to a half sitting position against the carved oak headboard. He uncorked the bottle and handed it to her. She drank deep before handing it back.
Britta narrowed her eyes and watched him drink. “We’re far from home free,” she blurted without preamble.
“Which problem are you referring to?” He placed the bottle on a side table not bothering to cork it. He wasn’t done yet, and likely neither was Britta.
She moved away and sat cross-legged facing him, her lovely face creased with concern. “We may have permanently removed Connor and Rhukon and their dragons from the action, but there have to be other corrupt dragon shifters. We must seek them out and destroy them too.”
Jonathan shook his head. “It won’t matter unless we get to the heart of things.”
“Aye, ye’re correct. We must find a way to corral the Morrigan, or she’ll just entice more mages and dragons with promises of limitless power.” Britta caught her lower lip between her teeth. “Tarika plans to warn the dragons. She believes the dark mages want to drain their dragon bondmates’ power.”
Jonathan straightened and recaptured the whiskey bottle, taking another swallow. “I thought mages became dragon shifters because they loved dragons and wished to share their lives with them.”
“Aye and that would be true—for most of us. Power lures dark mages, though. Far more power than can be had through the normal dragon shifter bond.”
“How do you know?”
“I saw it in Connor and Rhukon’s minds afore we thrashed them.”
“You didn’t say anything.” He handed her the bottle. Maybe they should eat something, if they were going to drink much more.
“I would have. Eventually. Tarika and I needed to determine just what it meant. And if ’tis really true, or just conjecture on our part.”
He kissed her forehead before swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “I’m going to cut up a bit of cheese for us and get some crackers.” He pulled on a pair of black sweat pants, securing the waist string to keep them from falling down, and got to his feet.
“Excellent.” She grinned. “Plotting revenge is hungry business, but ye dinna have to cover that amazing cock.”
He bit back a laugh, enjoying the compliment, and made his way to the kitchen. His apartment was small enough to keep talking. “Did you discuss this with Lachlan?” he asked as he chopped cheese off a block and opened a box of biscuits.
“Nay, but Tarika and Kheladin figured out what was going on while they were held prisoner.”
Jonathan returned to the bedroom and plopped the snacks on the bed next to Britta. “How does this bondmate thing work? Would Lachlan be privy to the dark mage problem, if it’s in his dragon’s mind?”…