AVAILABLE: Tuesday, September 28th
[Siren Everlasting Classic ManLove: Erotic Romance, Alternative, Paranormal, Shape-shifters, Sex in Shifted Form, MM, HEA]
Saving a Fallen Mate
The magic of love…
Cowboy Cole Roman never believed in fairy tales until he saves a drowning coyote that turns into a handsome young man. Overjoyed at his good fortune and thrilled to have a mate who gives him the ability to shift into coyote form, Cole vows to protect Lucky.
Joshua “Lucky” Green can’t remember his past until his ex-boyfriend shows up determined to finish the job he started. As a man with murder on his mind and a gun to get the job done, Lucky’s ex-boyfriend takes aim, determined to kill Lucky.
When Lucky is injured, Cole falls victim to a scheme that saves Lucky’s life, but dooms them to be together but always apart. Can Cole right the wrong, save his mate, and live happily ever after, or will his fairy tale become a nightmare?
Indulging a Kinky Mate
The beauty of the beast…
Shooting to kill was something Dillion Palmer was used to, but when a beautiful coyote stares him down, he finds himself shifting and claiming the creature as his mate. Micah is everything Dillion has hungered for, but just because they’re eternal mates doesn’t mean their relationship will go smoothly.
Micah Grant was compelled to come to the desert, but he never thought he’d find a mate or discover he’s a coyote shifter. When he can’t escape his destiny, he becomes determined to stand his ground and claim his rights. But as he realizes the danger his brothers face, he must put aside what he wants for himself to protect the shifters as a whole.
As Dillion and Micah struggle to accept one another, they must also fight multiple threats against their kind. Will Micah and Dillion learn to compromise, or will the cowboy shifters suffer a terrible loss?
Saving a Fallen Mate
Cole Roman had never heard a more pitiful scream. He shot to his feet, grabbed his flashlight, flicked it on, and pointed the beam into the churning rapids of the Rough River. The moon was full, casting strong light, but he still couldn’t quite see what struggled in the white-capped water. But the cries were of a beast that would soon die without his help.
Cole tore off his boots and his hat and plunged into the mighty river. Spring runoff meant the water was beyond frigid. If he couldn’t reach the creature and get him out in under five minutes, they were both likely to die from hypothermia. Adrenaline surged when he recognized a dog clinging to a boulder. When it saw him, the look of surprise and hope was almost heartbreaking.
Pushing himself hard against the pounding water, Cole feared his strength was abandoning him, but still he wouldn’t give up. He wasn’t going to leave the poor beast to die. A great undercurrent grasped Cole’s leg, twisting him around, pulling him below. The shock of the cold crushed around his chest like a vise, blasting the air from his lungs. Determined to reach the surface, he kicked as hard as he could. Gasping for air, he turned this way and that, horrified to find that the poor beast was gone.
A faint whimper penetrated the sound of churning water. Cole couldn’t see, but he swore the beast was behind a boulder, protected by an eddy. The only way to know for sure was to let go and float down. Cole wasn’t a man who had faith in any religion, but he did believe in God. After tossing up a prayer, he let go and allowed the current to carry him down.
He snagged his hand into a crack in the rock and tried to swing himself around to the calmer water behind, but where the water sheared off the face of the rock was powerfully strong. Each second he strained ripped more of his strength away. If he didn’t hurry, he wouldn’t have the energy left to save himself, let alone the beast.
Another prayer passed his lips, falling upon the pounding water, drowning out his fear. With one last pull, he swung himself behind the boulder, and there was the creature. Cole’s eyes widened when he realized he’d practically killed himself to save a coyote. His boss wasn’t going to be happy about that, but right now Cole didn’t care. He approached cautiously, afraid the wild animal might attack, but it seemed to realize Cole was there to help.
Tucking the creature over his back, holding his paws upon his shoulders, almost like he was wearing him as a backpack, Cole left the safety of the eddy. Rather than fight his way across the current, he let it carry him down as he made slow progress across.
When he reached the shore, he lay gasping. His strength was gone, but at least he and the beast were free of the water. Cole looked up river and saw his campfire. It looked so small and terribly far away. If he had any hope of avoiding hypothermia, he had to get back there. Determined to save himself and his new pet, Cole rolled to his side and climbed to his feet.
The poor beast was on his side, panting heavily. He lifted his head, but it just as quickly fell back to the ground. Cole bent over and picked the creature up. It was then he realized what he had in his arms wasn’t an ordinary coyote. In the harsh environment of the high desert, most coyotes never grew above forty pounds, but the one he held had to be at least seventy-five pounds. Moreover, his fur was a strange silvery color in the moonlight, but something about it told Cole it wasn’t the standard gray or even the dusty brown he’d seen on some coyotes. By all he could tell, it was blond hair. How strange. He imagined this animal would look quite amazing in the sunlight. Cole was even more determined that the creature would survive just so he could see him in his full glory.
“What are you, friend? Half coyote and half dog?” Such couplings were not uncommon. The resulting creature was known as a coydog. “Well, Marshal won’t be quite so upset with me that I saved you. Just be sure not to eat any of his cattle.”
Talking helped him to keep walking toward his fire even though his feet felt filled with pins and needles from the cold. Curiously, it seemed to him the mutt understood, so he kept on talking.
“I’m Cole Roman. I’m a wrangler and a hydrologist. Now if you know anything about cattle, you know that wrangler is just another name for cowboy. Funny that, the name I mean, in that I’m twenty-five and long since done being a boy. I suppose that’s why I like wrangler over cowboy.” Given his miserable childhood, Cole didn’t think he’d really ever been a kid. It seemed to him he’d been born old. But he didn’t want to dwell on those memories. “Now a hydrologist studies water. Well, it’s a bit more complicated than that, but one of the things I do is keep an eye on the water resources of the ranch. That’s why I’m gone from the main homestead so much. I have to go to all the places the water goes. Can’t have cattle if you don’t have water.”
The creature licked his face, making him laugh.
“Ah, you’re welcome. I’m glad I saved you, too. It gets lonely out here. I could do with a good dog. Will you be a good dog?”
To his ever-loving surprise, the creature nodded.
“Well, it appears the cold has gotten right into my head and done something funny to my brain, because I swear you understand every word I’m saying.”
“Relax. I want to please you. I want to make this good for you.” Damn. He wished he was more poetically inclined. He could recognize the beauty in others but didn’t seem to possess the ability himself. “I want to take you beyond the physical.”
“I’m there.” Lucky smiled at Cole as Cole kissed his belly button.
“I want you writhing in need.”
“I’m there, too.” Lucky’s grin widened as he wriggled in the blankets.
“I want to taste you.”
At that, Lucky’s eyes widened, but before he realized what Cole meant, Cole descended, taking Lucky’s cock into his mouth. His taste was wickedly delicious. Lucky arched up as he drew in a great breath. He reached down and cupped Cole’s hair, twining his delicate fingers in the dark strands, twisting them as Cole worked his mouth over his cock.
Lucky made nonsensical noises that pleased the hunter in Cole’s soul. Each time he rose up, he managed to part Lucky’s legs a little more. Eventually, he was able to slide his body between them. When he settled himself, Cole kissed his way down Lucky’s shaft to his sac and then lower.
“Ah, Cole!” Lucky gasped as he let go of Cole’s hair.
Cole teased his tongue deep into his cleft, loving the way his mate moaned and lifted himself up on his powerful legs. His buns were tight, too tight to let Cole have access to his target, so Cole shoved a mound of blankets under his buttocks and forced him to lie down.
“Please, take off your shirt so I can feel your skin against mine.”
Cole wrenched his shirt off and tossed it aside. “Lift up your legs.”
Obediently, Lucky lifted them and placed them on Cole’s shoulders. Now Lucky’s sweet pink pucker was fully exposed to Cole’s tongue. When he swirled around the sensitive skin, Lucky clutched the back of his knees and pulled himself open wide. Cole lost himself in the task of preparing his mate. Using his tongue, he teased and stroked over the tight ring of flesh until he was able to work his finger inside. The sound Lucky made was music to his ears. It was surrender and need. It was a promise for more between them than either of them could conceive. Each pass around made Cole’s prick ache, but he wanted this to be good for his mate. He needed this to be more than sex. It would be an epic joining, a fusing of their bodies and souls.
“My Cole. My mate. Please. I can’t hold back.”
Cole darted his gaze up and saw that Lucky’s balls were high and tight. Rather than try to relieve his need to climax, Cole decided to push him over the edge. Rising up, Cole wrapped his lips around his mate’s cock and sucked him deep while sliding his finger in and out of his bottom. Right as he peaked, Cole slipped another finger beside the first.
Lucky climaxed, gushing his pleasure into Cole’s mouth. His taste was simply the purest bliss Cole had ever known. While Cole waited for him to finish, he opened the bottle of lube, pushed down his sweats, then eased them off. Slowly, he coated his cock. Even his own hand upon his shaft brought him terribly close to the edge. But he held back. He wanted Lucky’s climax to be complete.
Bleary-eyed and sated, Lucky looked down at Cole and smiled. “You are too kind.”
“I wanted to make sure you were ready.”
“I am. I am ready for you.” Lucky rolled to his side and then climbed up on his hands and knees. “Please, Cole. Now.”
Slipping his lube-slick hand between Lucky’s tight cheeks, Cole toyed with his tender hole, loving how he lowered his head and lifted his bottom submissively. His tanned buttocks were high, tight, and so perfect Cole couldn’t help himself. He leaned forward and bit his right cheek. Not hard, but a nip that caused Lucky to shiver and then whimper plaintively.
Planting himself between his knees, Cole steadied his prick by settling it in the crevice of Lucky’s backside. Gently, he sawed his prick back and forth, rubbing it up and down the split of Lucky’s bottom. Each time he pushed a little harder and went a little deeper. Madness seemed to fill his soul. A need to be inside him, to complete their joining, left Cole growling as he tried to hold himself back.
“Please. Oh, Cole, please. I must have you. I must know you.”
With his strong hands on either side of his buttocks, Cole pried them apart and eased the head of his prick against Lucky’s tiny hole. Just pressing against him caused Cole’s entire body to shake with the need to finish, to join them. Slowly, he pushed forward. Lucky caught his breath and held very still as Cole’s cock filled him. As he looked down, Cole thought his prick was far too big. Lucky was so tiny compared to him. So small and sweet. Yet as he tried to pull away, the very thing that concerned him aroused him. Madness. Lucky’s tight hole both pushed him forward and yet begged him to back off. Cole knew he couldn’t do both. Lost in the confusion of his needs and his fears, he found that his mate refused to let him linger.
Indulging a Kinky Mate
Dillion Palmer had never seen such a courageous beast. He’d been working with Wildlife Services in Utah for five years, which meant he’d been called on to hunt all kinds of predatory animals, but he’d never seen anything like this. Bold as brass and twice as blinding, a coydog with butterscotch hair and wickedly intense fuchsia eyes stared right down the barrel of his gun. What was even more stunning was he continued to advance.
Instincts told Dillion to shoot, but something else told him that if he did, he would be committing a grave sin, so he held off, but kept his finger on the trigger, watching through the scope. Closer the beast came, his stride as casual as any teenager on a mall stroll. As crazy as it seemed in broad daylight where Dillion clearly had the upper hand, the animal showed no fear. The beast looked past the barrel of his rifle and past his sunglasses and seemed to drill its unusual gaze right into Dillion’s soul.
I am very much like you. I’m an animal who calls to the beast in you.
Dillion shook off the fanciful notion that the creature was communicating directly with him. Obviously, he’d been out alone in the desert heat for too long. Five blistering days and six frigid nights would break most men, but Dillion Palmer wasn’t most men. He was alpha prime. At six feet seven inches tall and three hundred pounds of meat-eating muscle, he was the most dangerous animal in the entire desert. Most creatures ran from his scent, and those that dared to meet his gaze ran soon after. But not this curious creature.
Noonday sun beat down upon both of them, making their shadows short, and their breath even shorter from the dry air. If today reached five percent humidity, Dillion would be surprised. As he drew another slow lungful of air through his nose, he was fairly certain the humidity was around two percent at best. His lips were stuck together and he’d give just about anything for a drink of the cool water from the flask near his hip, but there was no way in hell he’d turn his attention from the beast. If it came down to who could hold out the longest, Dillion was willing to toss his hat into that ring. Unlike the beast, he didn’t have thick fur. But then again, the fur of this animal was a light color and was probably acting more as insulation from the heat than a detriment. That was why the beautiful beast’s fur was puffed up rather than lying flat.
From years of experience, Dillion judged the creature at about sixty pounds. Far too big to be a pure coyote, the creature was about the right size for a coydog—a cross between a domesticated dog and a wild coyote. Such couplings weren’t common, but the creatures they produced split the features of both animals. If a lighter-colored coyote bred with a Golden Retriever, it would equal the amazing coat color of this creature and match the size. But those eyes…those wickedly hypnotizing fuchsia eyes were unlike anything Dillion had ever seen. They weren’t the frail pink color of albino eyes, which were more blood loaded and vision poor. These eyes were deep fuchsia, rich in both color and acute perception. The creature’s unusual eyes missed nothing, and Dillion found himself utterly drawn into the animal’s gaze.
As he watched the beast advance, Dillion became mesmerized as the sleek fur shimmered over the animal’s body. All Dillion could think of was butterscotch pudding. Shiny butterscotch pudding. Sunlight glittered over the animal’s mane, indicating it was well fed and possibly domesticated. Could the farmer who’d been so adamant they not hunt on his ranch be secretly harboring the very creatures Dillion was stalking? According to the county sheriff, there was a coydog that was black as night and at least one hundred fifty pounds. Whatever animal had scared that worthless gasbag, it clearly wasn’t this beast, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a pack of partially domesticated coydogs living on or near the ranch.
For all Dillion knew, the enigmatic ranch owner, Marshal Roberts, might have refused them passage on his land to avoid having to explain about his semiwild animals. This especially made sense in light of the death of two men who were clearly killed by a creature with a much bigger jaw than a regular coyote. Even this beast wasn’t big enough to have done the damage, but one that weighed in at around a hundred fifty pounds would be about right.
The creature took another step and then stopped. Its tongue lolled out of its mouth, but the saliva droplets were too thick to fall. Was it dehydrated? Perhaps what had called the beast near was the smell of the water Dillion had. It certainly wasn’t food. He was far too careful to let the scent of food lure an animal close unless he was trying to bring them to him rather than him having to hunt the animals down. But water could certainly have called the creature to his camp. Water was rare in the desert.
And then the beast did something he wasn’t expecting. It turned its back on him, lifted its tail, and whimpered.
Dillion was compelled to lay down his gun, which he did, and then he growled.
The beast let out an even more submissive cry that touched deep into Dillion’s soul.
“Now do you understand why I wanted you to do this?”
“I do. Even now, with you strapped down, I don’t feel totally safe.” Micah had to be honest.
Dillion met Micah’s gaze. “If I wanted to, I could bend this bed in half.”
Micah nodded. At least his mate wasn’t a man who would lie about the obvious.
“But I wouldn’t.”
“No?” Micah spread his delicate hand against his mate’s powerful chest.
“No,” Dillion answered, relaxing his massive form below Micah’s. “I honestly respect our host, but more than that, I would never willingly frighten you.”
“I am.” Dillion grinned.
“Is that really why you put me in charge?”
“I needed to protect you, Micah. You have no idea how hungry I am for you.”
With Dillion tied down by his ankles and wrists, his massive form was nothing but a wicked playground. “So you didn’t trust yourself to fuck me.”
At the word fuck, Dillion flicked his hips. Thick jean fabric protected Dillion’s cock from the wet slick of Micah’s hole, but just that tiny thrust convinced Micah that Dillion was wise to have himself tied up.
“I have to be honest that at first I didn’t want to be in charge because I really didn’t know what to do.” Micah unbuttoned and unzipped Dillion’s jeans. Dillion’s thick, monstrous prick sprung forth from his pants. He was so hard the veins on the side of his shaft visibly throbbed. “But now I think I can take my time and figure things out.”
“Go as slowly as you need to—ah!”
“Turnabout is fair play.” Micah lifted his mouth off Dillion’s cock only long enough to say that, and then he lowered his head and sucked the head of his prick into his mouth.
“Oh, God. Micah…that’s so good. Your mouth is so hot.”
As Micah worked his lips and tongue over his mate’s cock, it was obvious Dillion struggled to remain passive. Below their bodies, the bed creaked and groaned as Dillion tightened and released his limbs in the manacles.
“I won’t last. Babe, please, I won’t—I—”
Micah sucked hard until Dillion came. His taste was wickedly sublime. Just as Dillion had done to him, Micah didn’t stop pulling until his mate was empty. Grinning, he looked up and found his mate was watching him with a smile on his face and his head slowly shaking side to side.
“You naughty creature, you. Did Elliot tell you to do that?”
“He did. Elliot said it would take the edge off.” Micah settled himself on his knees between his mate’s spread legs. “He also said you’d be less hard the second time, but you’d last longer.”
“Elliot was just a wealth of information, wasn’t he?”
“Wasn’t Marshal?” Micah punctuated his conversation with strokes and kisses along his mate’s inner thighs. From Elliot, Micah knew right after climax his mate’s cock and balls would be far too sensitive but the rest of his body was perfect for strokes to get him riled up again. Elliot had told him all kinds of tricks, and he’d done so without any hesitation at all. At first Micah had been embarrassed and unable to meet Elliot’s gaze, but after ten minutes he was asking probing questions without reluctance. He wanted things to be good for his mate. Even though they were bound to one another that still didn’t mean Micah didn’t have to try.
“Marshal was quite informative.” Dillion’s hungry gaze drilled into Micah’s eyes, reminding him it was a good thing he was tied up.
“Have you given more thought to Dooley’s suggestion?”
“If you want to keep me revved up, I don’t think that’s the way to go.” Dillion laughed.
“Sorry.” Micah rose and then settled his bottom right on top of his mate’s soft prick. “What should we talk about?”
“Like I can think coherently with your perfect little butt on my dick?”
“Oh. Should I move?” Tauntingly, Micah moved forward then slid back. “Or maybe I should move this way.” He moved side to side, gently rolling Dillion’s cock between his slicked-up buttocks.
“You know, I won’t always be bound.” Dillion snarled menacingly.
“Yes, but you are right now.” Micah licked his lips and continued to swivel over Dillion’s dick until he stiffened. “My, my, how quickly you get hard.”
“All the better to fuck you with.”
“But that’s just it.” Micah grinned as he slid up his mate’s body to kiss him. “You can’t fuck me, remember?”