When I rode my bike into Aster Valley, it was supposed to be temporary. A quick, relaxing visit with friends. No entanglements. Zero drama. But then I saw the bumblebee being harassed on the side of the highway. More specifically, I saw Truman Sweet, Aster Valley’s resident botanist, spice merchant, and bee-costume enthusiast, being harassed. 

Opposites attract in this fun prequel novella set during an unexpected Tennessee snowstorm. Enjoy forced-proximity and enemies-to-lovers tropes as this brand new couple finds love among the zany, meddling residents of our beloved Licking Thicket. 

You belong to me and I know it down deep, in muscle and bone, where my wolf lives. Avery Rhine isn’t an average homicide detective with the Chicago PD. In fact, Avery isn’t an average anything. Sure, as an omega he knows he’s at the bottom of the food chain, but that’s never slowed him down. He’s got a great life, complete with a loving family and a best friend who’d take a bullet for him, so what more could he possibly want or need? Except, maybe, for the world to change.

Milo. Unusual. Quirky. Different. I’ve heard it all. I’ve accepted I’m not for everyone. When I find out I inherited a bookstore and apartment on a small East Coast island, I jump at the chance for a new life. Turns out I’ve also inherited a sexy, tattooed guy who not only rents the space next to my store but my apartment too. Gideon. I wasn’t looking for a roommate, but it’s not like I can stay at Milo’s place while he’s banished to a hotel. According to Milo, we’re bestie goals. And if he doesn’t wear pants at home, who am I to complain?

I’m a sniper. A trained operator. A bodyguard. A member of the elite private security force known as Vigilance. When my boss’s son acquires a stalker, of course I’m the one he calls to keep the guy safe. Mr. X’s one rule? Keep my hands to myself. Not a problem. At least, not until I meet Lane Porter. He’s gorgeous. Flamboyant. Fascinating. He makes me want things I can’t have. He stretches my self-control to the limit...and then breaks it.

I wasn't supposed to fall for my older brother's best friend. Unfortunately, that ship sailed when I was a teenager, even though Chase Hawthorne always treated me like nothing more than a younger sibling. Things were worse after my parents died. Chase was sweet and supportive, which only strengthened my feelings for him. But then he'd act like I couldn't take care of myself, and that part didn't go over well with me. Yeah, I had a habit of screwing up. 

Chicago homicide detective Tyler Jamison has accepted the fact that he was born defective. Women just don't do it for him, and he can't contemplate any other option. So, loneliness it is. Ian Alexander has met the man of his dreams, but the guy's in complete denial of his sexuality. Ian's not giving up on Tyler, though. Tyler's a domineering, controlling force of nature...just what Ian has always craved in his bed. When a serial killer sets his sights on Ian, Tyler will do anything to protect the much younger man.

I’m a man with too many secrets, so the last thing I need is a new roommate with a sexy smile and blue eyes that see right through me. Eight years ago, Roderick left town after high school. We’re not friends. I owe him nothing. But back then, I let one of my secrets slip, and he’s the only one who noticed. Part of me knows I should run far, far away. But the other part wants him to come upstairs and spend the night. But if I let him in, I could lose everything. 

Temp worker David Evans has been dreaming of Dr. Alun Kendrick ever since that one transcription job for him, because holy cats, that voice. Swoon. So when his agency offers him a position as Dr. Kendrick’s temporary office manager, David neglects to mention that he’s been permanently banished from offices. Because, forgiveness? Way easier than permission. But cheeky David isn’t intimidated, and despite himself, Alun is drawn to David in a way that can only spell disaster: When fae consort with humans, it never ends well. And if the human has secrets of his own?

You think you know me. That's the way I want it. Making you feel like we know each other - like we could go grab a beer sometime - is part of my job. Maybe the most vital part. It doesn't hurt that I'm easy on the eyes, single at 35, and born richer than sin. My aesthetic matters much more than it should, but all the better for my worthy cause. And it's a worthy cause. I've made an art out of making you feel good, and my influence makes you want to be good. Good like me. You think you know me, but you don't. Everyone has secrets. Mine could cost me everything.

One young American tutor + one dangerously sexy widowed king = conflict, chaos, misadventure, and lots and lots of sexy times. For the record, sleeping with my boss was not part of the plan when I started this new job. A job I desperately need to get my parents off my back about my chosen career path. But the second I catch sight of Lukas Romansky in the flesh, I know I’m in trouble. The guy is pure sex wrapped in a three-piece suit, and not even his stuffy attitude or the way he seems to despise me on sight is enough to stifle my attraction.

I didn’t mean to stow away on the yacht, I swear. My first mistake was going home with the jerk at the bar, but in my defense, Prescott said he owned the Worthington - 90 feet of sleek, yachty perfection - and if I could get the chief mate’s job, I’d have an excuse to stay on board and keep avoiding my family and my future. How was I supposed to know he was the owner’s cheating, gold-digging almost brother-in-law, or that I’d end up stuffed in a closet when the ship left the harbor?

When half your face is covered in a big, blotchy birthmark, you get used to the staring and the whispers. You get used to feeling unwanted. Until he walks into my bar.... Tall, gorgeous, and all kinds of out of place. And the way he looks at me ain’t like no way I've ever seen before. 

Smart men never dabble with demons. I never claimed to be smart, but at least, I’m powerful enough to control them. When I bound Havoc to me nearly 300 years ago, I never realized how difficult he’d make my life, although “accidentally” lighting him on fire every now and then does bring a smile to my face. Havoc is handsome, mysterious, and somehow, my closest companion, even if we don’t always get along.

In my defense, I was left alone with a bottle of single-malt and a lifelong penchant for protecting my baby sister. Still, that's no excuse to send 10 drunk-texts on why her hasty marriage would be a mistake. If only I had just texted my sister. But nope. I accidentally sent the message to her, her groom, and his super hot wingman. I also used the phrase “super hot wingman”, so I’d like to die now.