Dragon’s Ending (Wings Over Albion 4) by Joy Lynn Fielding

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Dragon’s Ending (Wings Over Albion 4)

Author and Publisher: Joy Lynn Fielding

Cover Artist: Miblart

Release Date: September 24, 2026

Tense/POV: Alternating first person pov/past tense

Genres: Paranormal MM Romance

Tropes: Slow burn, Dragon-shifters, Flirtatious x serious MCs, Academic MC

Themes: Family expectations, Legacy and inheritance, Trust

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 92 000 words

It can be read as a standalone story. It contains spoilers for earlier books in the series. 

It does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited  

Amazon US   |   Amazon UK

Dragon history was easy. This particular dragon? Anything but.

Blurb

I was sent to Dragon's Ending to uncover lost dragon history. What I found was Dominic Bedwyr.

The heir to one of Britain's oldest dragon-shifter families, Dominic has a reputation for turning heads and causing trouble in equal measure. He flirts. He provokes. He has an infuriating habit of appearing when least expected and interrupting my research.

And each time I think I've worked Dominic out, he proves me wrong. Because behind the studied indifference, I catch glimpses of someone else entirely. He’s a man born to inherit everything, yet trusted with nothing.

Before long, I catch myself listening for his footsteps. Waiting for him to appear by my side, pretending not to help and somehow making me laugh anyway.

But dragon families are complicated. Dominic’s, most of all.

It's one thing to fall in love with Dominic. It's another to fall in love with the Bedwyr heir.

Excerpt

Dominic tilted his head and met my gaze, amusement in those dark brown eyes, which deepened as I moved my chair away from him slightly. 

“Find what you’re looking for yet?” he asked.

I couldn’t be sure, but I felt that was double-edged. I chose to answer the question and ignore any other meaning. Perhaps he was used to guys simply keeling over into his arms whenever he wanted, but I had no interest in being one of them.

“I’m not looking for anything specific,” I told him.

“You’re sure about that?” he asked, and that lazily amused smile was still in his eyes. Which I was going to stop looking into right now.

Unfortunately, I tore my glance away just in time to notice the way he hitched his hip onto the table. Right next to me, making it impossible not to notice his thighs or think about the fluid ease with which he moved. It was as calculated as everything else about him.

“You know,” he said, “I’m sure I could help you out.” 

I wasn’t always the quickest to pick up when someone was flirting with me, but there was no mistaking the intent in his voice. It had lost its usual drawl, turning low and smooth.

“Can you read medieval Latin?” I asked him. “Because that would be helpful.”

He just looked at me, his lips tugging slightly at the corners. “Does Welsh work?”

“Oh, God, yes.” Because I’d already discovered the limits of my Welsh. Before I could stop myself, I was reaching for the document I’d had to put to one side earlier. “There’s this whole section here—”

 “So what made you decide to start halfway through the records rather than at the beginning?”

My irritation at his interruption evaporated as I realised what he’d said. Surely he couldn’t mean there were even more?

“I haven’t found anything further back than these yet,” I told him.

He shrugged and moved away. To my relief.

“And you’re just hoping something turns up.” He leaned against the shelves like he had every right to be there. Like they’d been put up for that purpose alone.

“That’s the general idea.”

“So what happens when the thing you need to see is actually somewhere else?”

That made me pause. “If you have something to say—”

“I do,” he said, pushing off from the shelves.

Too close again. Deliberately so. My dragon stirred, low and uneasy as he reached out to the ledger in front of me and moved it slightly, just enough to be out of square. It took every bit of willpower not to correct it immediately.

Dominic glanced down at the papers, then back at me, as if weighing whether I was worth the effort.

“Come on,” he said.

I frowned. “Where?”

“You want older than this,” he said.

My attention sharpened despite myself. “What does that mean?”

He watched me for an instant, and I saw that flicker of satisfaction again. He’d got me hooked, and he knew it.

“The castle.”

Phoebe had told me about it over supper. Only she’d said there was hardly anything left. “The ruins?” I checked.

“Unless you’ve found another one.”

“Your father—” I started.

“My father,” Dominic said, very mildly, “isn’t here.”

I hesitated. Rhodri didn’t like information shared without his consent.

“Come if you want,” he added, already turning towards the door. “Or don’t.”

Which was deeply irritating, because he knew I couldn’t resist. I closed my laptop with more force than necessary.

“If this turns out to be a waste of time—”

“You can come back and alphabetise something,” he said over his shoulder.

I stood up, because it was either that or hurl my laptop at his head.

About the Author 

Joy Lynn Fielding lives in a small English market town, where she nurtures enthusiasms for vintage aircraft, horses and gardening. An avid researcher for her books, she delights in uncovering unusual facts and sharing them with anyone within earshot. She insists this has never led to anyone hiding behind the furniture.

Joy writes at the pace her health allows, powered by enthusiasm, optimism and, above all, coffee. She hopes her books offer good company to anyone navigating their own winding paths.

Author Links

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Housesitter – Renfield Concierge Services by TA Moore

RECENT RELEASE

Book Title: Housesitter – Renfield Concierge Services

Author and Cover Artist: TA Moore

Publisher: Rogue Firebird Press

Release Date: September 10, 2026

Pairing: MM

Tense/POV: Third person, alternating POV, past tense

Genres: Paranormal Romance, Romantic Comedy

Tropes: Forbidden love, Lust at First Sight, Pants on Fire, Dark Past 

Themes: Sometimes lying is a form of the truth.

Heat Rating:  4 flames    

Length: 50 000 words

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Universal Buy Link

 A full-time Igor? In THIS economy?

Blurb

Shepherd’s life was supposed to be simple, and short. Very short.

Then the FBI raided the cult compound he was raised in and suddenly there was no one left to sacrifice him to his demonic spouse.

So much for destiny.

Luckily even the damned and the dead still need errands run, curses managed, and carnivorous plants pruned. These days Shepherd works for Renfield Concierge Services as a jack-of-all trades.

His latest gig is house-sitting The Murder House, a necromancer’s delight in Connecticut. All he has to do is keep out nosy teens, feed the books, and stop the coyotes, or next door’s poodle, from digging up the “vegetable” garden. Easy enough.

Until the necromancer’s “son” shows up with a death certificate, a notarized will, and a suspicious lack of knowledge about the supernatural world.

Now Shepherd has to honor his signed-in-blood contract without attracting the attention of any legal—or infernal—authorities who might still be interested in his cult-related past. Because Hell loves a notarised document.

Excerpt 

Marble Falls, Connecticut, boasted a picture-postcard-perfect harbor, more antique shops than seemed feasible for a town with under 4000 residents, and a colony of elephant seals. They also had one coffee shop.

Shepherd pulled into the curb outside the Seal of Approval, behind a small, bottle-green scooter with the shop logo displayed on the panniers, and parked. He got out of the minivan, pushed his sunglasses up onto the top of his head, and squinted at the shop. Today’s special was a Lavender Mocha with a ham and provolone cinnamon bagel for fifteen dollars.

So it was bougie. That was promising.

Shepherd had been to places where the only coffee dealer in town had been Betty in the local diner, with a greasy carafe of whatever had been on sale at Target. It was never freshly brewed either. No matter what time of the day you went in, it tasted like it had been thinking about what it had done for at least 24 hours.

It wasn’t for Shepherd. Bad coffee and celibacy had been two of the three main reasons he’d run away from the cult he’d grown up in. 

Shepherd absently reached up to rub his throat, the clot of raised scar tissue over his collarbone slick and itchy under his fingertips. 

The fact his ‘family’ was about to sacrifice him to the Lady of the Furrow before they were interrupted by the FBI’s raid on the property did have a strong lead on first place. 

Still, the coffee and celibacy had been hard pills to swallow too.

These days he avoided both when he could. 

Shepherd locked the minivan and stuck the keys in the pocket of his shorts and headed into the shop.

The bells over the door rang as he pushed it open. A barista was in the middle of the shop, bucket between her feet, as she swilled away at footprints on the tiles. She looked up and gave Shepherd a quick once-over, one eyebrow quirked with interest by the time she got to his face.

“Hi,” she said and plunked the mop into the bucket with a wet squelch. “I haven’t seen you around here before. Tourist?”

Shepherd blinked at her for a moment. He missed New York already. Nobody there cared where he was from or why he was there. Most of the time they didn’t even notice him. That was how he liked it. It was one reason he didn’t like taking jobs out of the city. Unfortunately, his wallet didn’t much care what he liked, and travel contracts paid better.

“Not exactly,” he said. “I’m here for a couple of weeks.”

The bucket was on wheels. It squeaked over the floor as the barista dragged it with her to the counter. She propped it against the wall and left it there as she grabbed a clean apron to pull on.

“Airbnb?”

Shepherd fished his wallet out of his pocket and wrinkled his nose as he considered the answer. “Kinda?”

The barista—Emily, from her name tag stitched onto the apron—leaned one hand on the bar. She cocked her head to the side and raised her eyebrows.

“That’s the sort of thing you should really be sure of,” she said lightly. “What would you like? Today’s special—”

“I saw,” Shepherd interrupted her. “No. Thanks. Just a vanilla latte. To go.”

She nodded, grabbed a cardboard coffee cup from beside the till, and turned her back to get to work on his order. Once she had the grounds slotted into the espresso machine, she looked back over her shoulder at Shepherd.

“The soup of the day is Bloody Mary and Pumpernickel,” she said, pointing to the big, silver tureen being warmed over gas on the counter. “If you’re hungry.”

About the Author

TA Moore is a Northern Irish writer of romantic suspense, urban fantasy, and contemporary romance novels. A childhood in a rural, seaside town fostered in her a suspicious nature, a love of mystery, and a streak of black humour a mile wide.

Coffee, Doc Marten boots, and good friends are the essential things in life. Spiders, mayo, and heels are to be avoided.

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Wonder Boy: Owned by Calan Mercer

NEW RELEASE

Book Title: Wonder Boy: Owned

Author: Calan Mercer

Publisher: Valleyburn Press

Cover Artist: Neslihan Yardimli for BookCoverZone

NEW Release Date: OCTOBER 6, 2026

Tense/POV: third person, past tense, three alternating POV 

Genres: Contemporary MM Dark/Erotic Romance, BDSM

Tropes: Forbidden love, workplace, boss/employee, age gap, power exchange, possessive mmc, insta-obsession (touch him and die), psychological, hurt/comfort, aftercare heavy

Themes: Identity, Belonging, Complicity, Power as intimacy, Self-destruction, Legacy and ownership, Survival

Length: approx. 129 000 words

It is book one in a trilogy. It ends as an HFN where it is clear there is more to resolve.

Heat Rating: 5 flames

Goodreads

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US   |  Amazon UK 

He came for the job. He left owned.

Blurb 

Alex Mercer was supposed to be untouchable: the golden heir to his family's powerful law firm in Los Angeles, two years of associate experience under his belt, dispatched to Las Vegas to bring the chaotic Global Combat League to heel.

Instead, he met Jack Doyle.

Compact. Battle-hardened. Close-cropped dark hair just beginning to gray. The cold, calculating stare of a man who built an empire from nothing and never learned how to lose. One command from across the desk and Alex's perfectly tailored world began to unravel — jacket, tie, shirt — every step an exit offered and refused, every refusal a choice Alex made with open eyes.

What started as an interview ended with Alex stripped bare on Jack's desk, claimed so thoroughly he could still feel it weeks later. What started as a contract became something neither of them had a name for. And what started in Las Vegas wasn't going to stay there.

Some men break you. Jack owned him. And the worst part? Alex let him.

A dark MM romance about power, possession, and the cost of being chosen by a man who doesn't share what he claims.

Excerpt 

“Kid,” Jack said. “You any good at not fucking up?”

Alex registered the question for what it was, not the interview he had prepared for, but the one underneath it, the one that wanted to know whether he was going to give a law school answer or an honest one. He had prepared the law school answer on the flight. He looked at Jack and set it aside.

“Depends on the definition,” Alex said. Then he looked at Jack and reconsidered. “Yes, sir.”

Jack’s mouth curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Sir. I like that. Most of these Ivy League pricks walk in here calling me Jack like we’re old pals.” He held the look. “What does ‘yes’ mean to you?”

“It means you tell me what’s coming before it arrives, I keep it from becoming a problem. You call me after it’s already a problem, I make it go away.” He held Jack’s eyes. “Either way works. I’d rather the first.”

Jack regarded him for a moment. Then he set down what he was reading and leaned back.

“Marco says you’re good,” he said. “That means something, coming from him. I know your father. I know his firm. They’ve been handling my contracts for three years.” He picked up his mug and took a drink. “If you’re even half the lawyer Richard is, you’re worth the conversation.”

“I’m not my father,” Alex said. There was no edge to it. He was stating a fact. “But I can do the job.”

Jack looked at him with the full quality of attention he would come to understand was Jack’s primary mode: complete, unhurried, costing the subject of it nothing and requiring everything. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Alex said.

Jack almost smiled. He set the mug down and leaned forward, elbows on the desk.

“Alexander Mercer. Thirty. Top of your class at USC Law. You know why you’re here?”

“My father said you needed a personal attorney. Available at all hours. Fighter issues, sponsorship conflicts, anything that doesn’t go through the league office.”

“That’s the version that goes on paper.” Jack tapped the desk once with two fingers. “Off paper it’s simpler. You work for me. The league, the fighters, your old man — none of them own you. I do. I snap my fingers at three in the morning because some idiot heavyweight punched a casino bouncer, you’re already in a car. I need an NDA before breakfast because one of my champions knocked up a ring-girl, you’re already writing it. You breathe when I say breathe. You eat when I say eat. You exist for the GCL. The GCL is me. I need someone I can trust completely to have my back. Not the league’s back. Mine.” He let that land. “You want this job, Mercer?”

Alex had known, somewhere on the flight over, that he wanted it. Not only the money, though the money was real. It was the room he was sitting in. The building below, with its blood smell and its training cages. The man across the desk, who had not yet said a single thing that was anything other than exactly what he meant. Alex had spent two years in an environment that prided itself on precision and had not yet been in a room where precision was this unconcerned with its own appearance.

“Yes, sir,” he said. “I want the job.”

Jack’s eyes narrowed, dark and unreadable. He let the words hang in the air for a long ten seconds, the air conditioner droning in the background. Then he smiled, slow and predatory, a smile that had closed million-dollar deals and ended careers in the same breath.

“Good,” Jack said. “Then you’re going to prove it.”

The shift in the room was immediate, like the temperature had dropped ten degrees. Alex’s mouth went dry. He’d expected a hard interview. Maybe some locker-room hazing. Not… this. Whatever this was.

Jack stood up. He came around the desk, without announcement, without the excess of motion that would have signaled awareness of being watched. He stopped three feet away and crossed his arms and looked at Alex the way he had been looking at him since Alex walked in, which was completely and without apology.

“Take off your jacket.”

Alex blinked. Once. His heart slammed against his ribs like it wanted out. Not standard. A line. A test. The kind powerful men drew in the sand to see who’d cross it and who’d run.

Jack’s voice stayed even, almost conversational, but there was steel underneath. “You heard me. Jacket. Off. Or you can stand up right now, walk out that door, tell your Daddy I’m a crazy prick, and we’ll both pretend this meeting never happened. Your call, kid. Last chance to keep your suit clean and your dignity intact.”

About the Author

Calan Mercer writes dark, character-driven romance about powerful men and the things they can't control. A nine-year Army veteran with deployments to Iraq and Kosovo, he earned his MFA in creative writing from San Diego State University and has spent years ringside, drawn to the brutal intimacy of combat sports and the speed of the ice.

Wonder Boy: Owned is his debut and the first book in the Global Combat League series. He lives in San Diego with his husband and four very opinionated cats.

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Twitter/Pinterest/TikTok @calanmercer

Instagram/Threads: @calanmercerwrites

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Hilarina and the Ogre by October Arden

NEW RELEASE and UPCOMING EPILOGUE

Book Title: Hilarina and the Ogre (and an extended epilogue, The Ogre Comes Home)

Author and Publisher: October Arden

Cover Artist: Dhananjaya

Release Dates: September 15, 2026 (The Ogre Comes Home: October 13)

Tense/POV: Close third, past tense, alternating POV

Genres: MM Contemporary Romance with dark elements

For Hilarina and the Ogre: Friends to lovers, found family, ace/demi spectrum romance, protector hero, first love, bullying, size difference, hurt/comfort, dark themes with a hopeful core.

For The Ogre Comes Home: Reunion romance, hurt/comfort, amnesia, recovery from trauma, meeting the parents (again), marriage proposal, domestic intimacy

Heat Rating: 2 flames

Length:  81 000 words (17 000 words for the epilogue)

It is a main story, plus an epilogue with no cliffhanger.

Goodreads 

Hilarina and the Ogre   |   The Ogre Comes Home

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Hilarina and the Ogre   |   The Ogre Comes Home

A ballerina, an ogre, and a love that refuses to stay forgotten.

Blurb

Hilary Davis knows how to disappear.
After years of being mocked as "Hilarina Ballerina," he's perfected the act. He has a popular girlfriend he can't stand, friends he doesn't trust, and a strict rule never to dance where anyone can see. It's a brittle kind of safety, but it's all he has.
Then he meets Trenton Wells.
Massive, solemn, and the school's most devoted outcast, Trenton doesn't play by anyone's rules. He reads through every class, speaks with unnerving calm, and sees straight through every mask Hilary wears — including the ones Hilary himself doesn't know he's wearing.
What starts as a simple trade (calculus tutoring for ballet lessons) becomes something neither of them can walk away from. Choosing Trenton means losing every shield Hilary built to survive. But as the town's cruelty sharpens from slurs to violence, Trenton is willing to become any kind of monster to keep Hilary safe, and Hilary will tear his own world apart to stay at his ogre's side.
What they don't know yet is that some devotions outlast memory itself — and some damage can only be undone by the people brave enough to keep choosing each other.

Spanning youth and adult trauma, Hilarina and the Ogre is a dark, fiercely tender queer romance exploring the scars of first love, the fragile hope of second chances, and the unyielding weight of an absolute love.

The Epilogue

Trenton Wells remembers everything now.
The family that loves him. The years of forgetting. And the man who followed him across state lines, through seven separate lifetimes, without once giving up (even when it nearly destroyed him.)
So coming home should be the easy part, but Trenton can't stop tallying the cost. The fifteen years of life Hilary spent chasing him. A body that still flinches at the wrong touch. And an arm that aches when it rains, a permanent reminder of the night that shattered them both.
Hilary doesn't want his guilt, he wants his ogre — whole, present, and done apologizing for the things that were never his fault.
The Ogre Comes Home is the story about what happens after the rescue, and the fumbling, fierce, and sometimes ridiculous work of re-building a life with the only person who matters.

Excerpt 

The next day was worse. They were smart enough to take their bags with them when they went to lunch, but when they returned to the classroom, there was semen on their desks and smeared into their textbooks. Hilary probably would have recognized it for what it was regardless, but the empty condom wrappers helped. It brought the fear back, and not lightly. He couldn’t afford to replace his textbooks.  

When he went to Varda, he struggled to keep his voice even. “Knock it off.”

She turned those pretty eyes up at him. “Knock what off?”

“Do you know how expensive textbooks are?”

“I can think of one way for you to get money.”

He might have taken her up on it. It wasn’t just his own books that had been ruined, after all. But Trenton took him by the wrist and dragged him away. “Don’t talk to her.”

“She’s responsible for this. If I accept her offer—”

“And for the rest of the year have her around while I’m with you? Don’t. I’ll buy the books.”

Hilary had to ask. And it wasn’t because of the condoms or the spray paint. “Do you—” But he had no idea how to make the words come out. How did you form words like that? And say them out loud?

But Trenton knew what he was asking. “So to be in your life I have to want to fuck you? Is that it?” 

The boy didn’t shout the words. His voice was even as always. But he was angry, and it frightened a weenie like Hilary to hear it. Even knowing the anger wasn’t directed his way, and that Trenton was the only person in school who cared about him, it was frightening. “It’s just that you’re nice. You’re too nice to me. And the things you say. No one else says things like that.”

“Yes, they do.”

“In books, but not—”

“I’m not going to be an asshole just to fit your notion of friendship. I finally found you. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to find you.”

That was just more evidence against the boy. Trenton could have grabbed him by the face and shoved his tongue down his throat, and it wouldn’t have been more shocking to Hilary than those words were. But Trenton still wasn’t done. 

“People like me—we don’t get chosen. We live our quiet lives just trying not to take up space, hoping to get through each day so we can disappear into a book by the end of it. But you chose me. When you came to talk to me, and when you asked for help with the math. You didn’t mean for it to become anything. But what else could I do? I had to try. With you—because it was you—I had no choice but to try.”

Hilary’s eyes were prickling. It was the words, yes. Words he’d never heard in his life. But also the tone. Trenton was still calm, or trying to be, but it was like he’d spent the whole morning reading aloud; his voice was hoarse with it.

Hilary was forced to look down, unable to meet that earnest expression head-on. “I’m ordinary. I’m so ordinary, Trent. I’m not even smart, why would you—”

Trenton hugged him, though it was more accurate to say he grabbed him, those arms like a vise. “I wanted this,” the boy said, meaning the embrace, “I wanted to do this since the night of the party.”

That was impossible to believe. “While we were sorting through the garbage?” 

“When you offered the trade. To teach me while I taught you.”

So even earlier, then.

“But that was selfish,” Hilary objected. “I needed you more than you needed me.”

“I’ll always need you.” Trenton’s face was in his shoulder, a little muffled, but not enough to obscure the words.  

It left Hilary helpless, his hands raised, hovering there at the boy’s back. “This isn’t normal. What you’re saying—whatever’s happening—”

“And you want to be normal, do you? Because you were enjoying it so much. Your girlfriend and your fake friends.”

It came again—that urge to hit Trenton. No, not hit him. Hilary wasn’t sure what it was, but it made his hands clench, and finally, finally, he was able to grab hold, his fingers crushing Trenton’s shirt in his hands. “I’m not worth it. You’re going to see. You’re going to be so embarrassed when you wake up and realize.” 

“Then let me be embarrassed,” Trenton said. “I promise you’ll be waiting longer than I will.”

About the Author  

October Arden writes emotionally raw queer stories that live somewhere between literary fiction and romance. Their work explores fluid identities, found families, co-dependent devotion, and complicated love—often through the lens of characters who are chronically ill, neurodivergent, or quietly self-destructive. These are stories for anyone who's ever felt unwanted or unseen, where even the most damaged hearts can find a home.

October loves hearing from readers, so feel free to reach out, ask questions, or suggest what you'd like to see next. You can also join the newsletter to stay in touch—and as a thank you, you'll receive a free copy of Starting with Cake, a quietly unhinged neurodivergent love story full of snack cakes, janitor uniforms, and the kind of care that sneaks up on you. Find out about new books and other extras at octoberarden.com

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Summer and Shadows by Kathryne Lentes

RECENT RELEASE

Book Title:  Summer and Shadows (The Pact of the Veil, Book Two)

Author: Kathryne Lentes

Publisher: Nine Star Press 

Cover Artist: Jaycee DeLorenzo

Release Date: August 18, 2026

Pairing: FF

Tense/POV: first person/past tense 

Genres: Paranormal, Lesbian Urban Fantasy 

Tropes: Taboo, trans, poly, pansexual, shifter, elves, witch, magic, conspiracy

Themes: Self-acceptance

Heat Rating: 1 out of 5 flames

Length: 35 900 words

It is the second book in the series. (Book 1 The Night Menagerie)

It does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Publisher  |  Amazon US  |   Amazon UK

The time is now; the city is LA. The hunt for a magical killer has begun.

Blurb 

Sah has gone through a lot in three years. I mean how often does a person find out their sister disappeared, meet a hot detective, get bitten by a werewolf, and discover they are part of a legacy of shape shifters? She thought her life would calm down and she could enjoy a summer vacation in LA. But now she is mixed up with the Fae and a magical serial killer. To survive she must find new allies and embrace her new self without reservation.

Excerpt 

There are real monsters in the world. I know because I am one of them. After three years, I was still trying to get my head around that fact, even though I was getting ready to attend a convention full of them. The Menagerie, as they called themselves, were a group of shapeshifters who hid from the world. Still, since their discovery was always a dangerous possibility, they had created an entire intellectual property called the Façade to coax people into their world. It started as a game, and with my introduction, they had added novels to the mix. Now, I was traveling to California to try to sell my recent bestseller to a movie studio. I wondered if Dominique would ever forgive me if a werewolf novel of mine made it to the Cineplex before she did.

She didn’t speak up. She was the main character in my first book series and the voice in my head when I was doing something I knew, in most plots, would end with me dead. We had had a really good run, and her adventures had brought me my first real success, but after most of the changes I had gone through, I had started a new urban fantasy series. It was almost autobiographical, not that anyone would ever believe it.

I mean how often does a person find out their sister disappeared, meet a hot detective, get bitten by a werewolf, find said sister, lose said sister and hot (now maybe new girlfriend?) detective, and blackmail an entire group of supernatural entities to get the pair of them back. Not to mention discover you are part of a legacy of shapeshifters and can now channel a snow leopard totem. And finish up by trying try to live happily ever after only to have to engage in a death match with a psychopathic grudge-bearing werewolf leader.

It was hard for me to believe, and I had lived through it—even if just barely. I took a deep breath and told myself to get out of bed. I don’t know why I was so focused on my past today when the future seemed so promising.

It was probably because Val was out of the house. This was the first big trip I was going to make without her, and I missed her. She was one of the only people I had ever met who accepted me for being the giant pansexual polyamorous mess of a partner I was. I looked in the closet, trying to decide on a dress to pack in my luggage. I was much more comfortable in jeans and a band T-shirt than I was in Chanel, no matter what my budget told me I could afford. I needed something more formal if I was going to meet with a movie producer. Great, now I was beginning to miss my sister Nisha. She was the clothes horse of the family and would not only have brought me six of her dresses but also tried to do my hair and makeup before I left. She was out in Montana with a pack of werewolves. My life was not the only one that had changed a lot in the last couple of years.

About the Author  

Kathryne Lentes has been writing stories as long as she could hold a pen in her hand. She is a transwoman who, when not working on her own projects, operates Paper Phoenix Ink, a blog showcasing queer creators. She is currently living in Saint Louis with her wife, two cats, and a pile of science fiction and fantasy books.

Author Links

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