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Meet Krista, Maria, Becky and Ashlee. We are bringing our love of books and the authors that write them to you!! Hopefully you will enjoy reading them as much as we did ♥
Thursday, October 8, 2026
Excerpt and Cover Reveal: Like A Villain by Willow Dixon
Wednesday, October 7, 2026
Book Blast: Boomerang Street by Garrick Jones
RECENT RELEASE BOOK BLAST 
Book Title: Boomerang Street
Author and Cover Artist: Garrick Jones
Publisher: GRJ Press
Release Date: September 15, 2026
Genre: LGBT Historical/Crime Thriller
Themes: Political Thriller; Action Thriller; Rags to Riches
Heat Rating: 5 flames
Length: 135 000 words/389 pages (paperback version)
It is a standalone book and does not end on a cliffhanger.
“ … it started off by finding a few floaters in the harbour, but that caused a huge amount of attention in the press. It’s only a theory that they’re linked, but we’ve found six men, almost skeletons, in the past seven months dumped in all sorts of places, all with the same ligature marks and signs of abuse on their backs.”
1932, Sydney, Australia, in the height of the Great Depression, Joe Ing, one man among the two-thirds of Australian men out of work, will do anything to put food on the table for his family.
A casual job as a waiter at a private party leads to more opportunities, some of which push his limits and lead him into dangerous waters. The disappearance of his best friend, selling his body in the darkened streets of the city, precipitates a train of events that cause a change in his circumstance; both for better and for worse.
In Depression-era Sydney, jobless Joe Ing will do anything to feed his family. A waiter’s shift at a private party opens doors to risky work, dangerous secrets and a city’s underworld. Then, when his best friend vanishes, Joe is pulled into events that may save him—or destroy him.
“Over here,” the man said, moving to the end cubicle and standing inside it, holding the door open.
“Bit risky,” Joe said, even though he’d already walked across the tiled floor. His penis led him, not his head.
The man chuckled, then moved to one side to allow Joe to go into the cubicle with him. He closed the door.
“Stand on the seat if anyone comes in,” Joe whispered.
“I know what to do,” came the reply, accompanied by a look of amusement and a very cheeky smile. “What do you like?”
Joe shrugged noncommittally, smiling back.
He enjoyed it far more than usual, the man’s head resting on Joe’s shoulder and breathing into the crook of his neck while they worked each other’s cocks. It felt good to have an arm around his back, the smell of the man’s brilliantine in his nose … besides, he was one good-looking coot and he certainly knew what to do, squatting down at the last minute to encourage Joe to spurt into his opened mouth. Joe couldn’t help himself: he arched his back as he was about to spoof and ran his hand behind the man’s neck, giving him the go-ahead to swallow his spunk. He throbbed out four spurts into the man’s mouth, the man looking up into his eyes as he did so.
“Fuck, that was lovely,” the man whispered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Not half,” Joe said with a grin. “Your turn now?”
Joe pulled him to his feet and undid his top trouser button. The man’s strides fell down to his shoes. It wasn’t something Joe did often, but he liked this bloke for some unknown reason and wanted to see whether he had golden hair on his legs; he was a sucker for red-blonds. Joe pulled the man’s underwear down, crouching down as he did so, the man’s cock inches from Joe’s face. It was truly impressive, standing out stiffly from his body, the foreskin stretched back along the shaft, his penis long and sleek and fat. The pale thicket of blond pubic hair was a surprise—Joe had imagined something darker or redder, but he was very aroused by what he saw, even though he’d just let go into the man’s mouth. He felt the familiar temptation, that as-yet unfulfilled desire to run his lips over the head of the man’s cock and then take it in his mouth, wondering yet again for the umpteenth time what it might feel and taste like.
As he squatted, his cock was still hard, throbbing, bouncing on the top of the waistband of his underpants. He spat in his hand, then started off slow, twisting his hand around the man’s shaft, gradually increasing speed. It wasn’t long before Joe noticed the grip and release in the man’s thighs; things were getting close.
Before he could get to his feet, the man groaned softly and spurted onto the wall over Joe’s shoulder, grasping the back of Joe’s neck, then panting softly until his orgasm subsided.
“Thank you,” he whispered, a moment or two later, looking down at Joe.
“No—thank you.”
Joe played with the man’s cock until it softened, something he rarely did, but he really liked the shape, size and feel of this bloke’s penis: it was a knockout. It felt so good in his hand that he was reluctant to let go of it. Even flaccid it was semi-turgid, full of blood and heavy in his hand. It was the manifested form of the fantasy cock that he thought about when he squirted onto his belly in bed at night. Damn, he thought: given half the chance, he could play with it for hours.
When he eventually stood, encouraged by the man’s hand on his shoulder, it was impossible to ignore the fact that he was still hard and he was oozing a bit.
“Want more?” the man asked, smiling and then running his hand around Joe’s erection.
Joe nodded, shrugged again nervously, then watched as the red-blond settled on the toilet seat and then sucked a second load out of him.
Back at the bar, Joe scored the encounter as up there with the best he could remember, and for a moment was tempted to change his mind and accept the offer the man had made to meet up again. He’d vacillated, but hadn’t acted on his second thoughts; it would have been a first had he done so. Instead, as they’d left the gents’, he’d just patted the man on the back and shaken his hand, leaving him to return to the bar with a traditional “Catchyalaydah,” a farewell that in Aussie slang meant something like “See you again perhaps, but don’t hold your breath”.
Maybe he’d regret it, but it was too late to do anything about it now. Joe’s attitude to the blokes he liked and what he did with them was odd. He didn’t understand it himself.
From the outback to the opera.
After a thirty-year career as a professional opera singer, performing as a soloist in opera houses and in concert halls all over the world, I took up a position as lecturer in music in Australia in 1999, at the Central Queensland Conservatorium of Music, which is now part of CQ University.
Brought up in Australia, between the bush and the beaches of the Eastern suburbs, I retired in 2015 and now live in the tropics, writing, gardening, and finally finding time to enjoy life and to re-establish a connection with who I am after a very busy career on the stage and as an academic.
Author Links
Blog/Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram
Release Tour: Checking Out the Librarian by Anna Richland
RELEASE TOUR:
Checking Out the Librarian by Anna Richland
Length: 145,000 words
Series: standalone
Prior Reading: n/a
Genre: Contemporary, Sports, Rom-Com
Tropes: opposites attract; golden retriever x black cat; banter; messy-texting himbo; low angst; grumpy x sunshine; one night stand; hookup turns into more; role play; soft dom; rescue kitten; they are like their pets; food is a love language; birthday parties; jock x librarian; hurt/comfort; characters who enjoy books; and cutthroat amateur sports competition in a queer sports league.
Trigger/Content Warnings: - At 2/3 of the way through the book, a minor secondary character forces a nonconsensual kiss on one of the MMCs. During that scene there is pushing and a physical confrontation, but nothing further than nonconsensual kissing. -There is a brief instance of homophobic behavior, but MMC's father steps up and shuts that down.
-Brief references to parent with alcohol problems and toxic perfectionism.
Designer: Designer: Sweet N Spicy Designs (Jaycee DeLorenzo) Character art: Alex @hexadonis on IG and Tumbler
A new romance from award-winning author Anna Richland, perfect for readers who enjoy banter-filled MM contemporary romances like Boyfriend Material by Alexis Hall, A Time to Shine by Rachel Reid, The Unlikely Heir by Jax Calder, or Cat Sebastian's Star Shipped.
When Connor's out-of-town hookup turns out to be the library's new hire, he gets busy CHECKING OUT THE LIBRARIAN.
Connor McMillan has his life together. Mostly.
Teaching second graders is a perfect job for his high energy, but why can't he find a boyfriend who likes his enthusiasm too? He wants someone in the bleachers cheering just for him, someone to cook dinner with, someone who will maybe, possibly, dress up and do a little Regency cosplay, but that last thing he doesn't say out loud.
Starting over in Oregon means Jonathan Park has to try new things, meet people who don't work at the library, and hope that this time he won't repeat the same mistakes.
Who's he kidding? He self-sabotages the hell out of anything good, but maybe the first step to self-improvement is saying yes to a real date with his internet hookup.
And step two? Learning to pet Connor's dog.
Connor's friends suggest he dial himself back and be more chill with Jonathan, but every time he looks at the man he wants to call his boyfriend, his brain chases his tail.
Unlocking the librarian's fortified heart will be a challenge, but he's taught kids to read. How hard can it be to teach Jonathan to say I love you?
CHECKING OUT THE LIBRARIAN is a spicy male-male romance for readers who want a fun, happy read with a library kitten, queer softball games, and county fair food. (145,000 words, dual POV).
LEANING IN:
Connor’s face lit up, big curves yielding a dimple that Jonathan hadn’t seen during the lobby conversation. No one had looked at Jonathan with that much pleasure for a very long time, and he felt his own lips curving and his eyes crinkling and damn if he wasn’t leaning towards this hunk of sunshine.
Anna Richland (she/her) writes award-winning romances about geeky characters falling in love. She is a former US Army officer and ex-lawyer who now fills her days with imaginary people and very real coffee. When not wearing pajamas at her computer, she takes watercolor painting classes, plays decidedly mediocre pickleball, and maintains a fifty-year habit of reading too much.
She lives with her quietly funny Canadian husband and two occasionally-resident young adults in a very old house in Seattle. Raised in the Midwest, she’s lived on both coasts and visited more than twenty-five countries, half of them courtesy of her former army career.
Tuesday, October 6, 2026
Release Blitz: Breached by J.L. Drake
Title: Breached
Trilogy: Stonewall #3
Author: J.L. Drake
Genre: Military Romantic Suspense
Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Single Dad, Secret Identity
Forced Proximity, Forbidden Love, Found Family
Release Date: October 6, 2026
Agent Paul thought he understood sacrifice.
He was wrong.
One second.
That's all it takes for everything to change.
With ears still ringing, Paul is forced to confront one unbearable truth: the people he swore to protect are paying the price for a war that was never meant to reach them. Now they all must face the aftermath of his choices.
The deaths.
The carnage.
The pain.
Nicole spent her career documenting wars that belonged in someone else's world.
Until now.
Now the lines between truth and deception have never been more dangerous. Yet the greatest betrayal may not come from the enemy closing in—but from the man she thought she knew.
Bruno is done playing defense.
After years of watching his empire crumble, he's learned exactly where to strike. He isn't waiting for Blackstone to cross the border.
For Blackstone, this isn't just another mission. It's the fight for everything they've built—and everyone they love.
Because the war isn't raging south of the border.
It's coming home.
Read in Kindle Unlimited
Read in Kindle Unlimited
Read in Kindle Unlimited
I was in a battle zone. In the split second of the blast, I’d thrown my body over Olivia’s. The explosion hit us like a wall of fire. It was blistering and deafening all at once. The heat had been instant, unforgiving, and merciless. It crawled over us like a living thing.
I tried to keep my weight off Liv as I rolled us onto our sides. We both gasped for air that wasn’t there. The oxygen had been sucked away, along with any sound. The ringing in my ears was intense, and I fought to block it out. It wasn’t the first time I’d been through a blast like that, and I knew my ears would bother me for a while. My vision was spotty, but I blinked to see Olivia and quickly patted her down to make sure she was okay. My eyes kept going to the vehicles, but I had to check her out first.
She was like a zombie, and I knew she was in shock. I pressed a hand to her shoulder and made the motion to stay down. I had to assess the situation. Distant screams from all around us made me realize this was so much worse than I could have ever imagined. I spotted the tracker Liv had handed me where it lay on the ground. I rammed my fist into the face of the lion then stood and used my heel to crush it. Staying low, I moved quickly in the direction of the SUVs.
Holy shit. It might be a war zone, but this one included everyone I loved.
Chase! Nicole! Their faces pushed through my mind as I began to run. I looked for the guys and saw, like me, they’d transformed from husbands and fathers to combat soldiers. They moved swiftly about in the chaos. As I got close, I saw their faces were white with pain and shock as they tried to get everyone away from the still-burning vehicle. We all knew more could be coming.
What the hell had happened? How could this happen here?
Cries and shouts from our loved ones intermingled with the sounds of people as they arrived on the scene to help.
There was so much distraction, I couldn’t even fathom that Nicole and Chase’s SUV was the one that had been blown up.
John and Travis were quickly herding the wives and children to Zack’s entrance. Sloane raced past me, headed for Olivia. “I’ve got her.” Her voice sounded strangled and her face was pale.
Then I saw Savannah. Cat was at her side pulling her arm desperately to try to get her to move with the others toward the safety of Zack’s restaurant.
“Savi!” Zack appeared out of nowhere, and he sounded a mile away. He shook her shoulders, and she blinked out of the trance she was in. “Olivia! Easton!” she screamed.
“Olivia is over there. She’s okay.” He pointed to the stairs where Sloane half-carried Olivia up the restaurant steps. Savannah sobbed and ran for her daughter.
“Zack!” I yelled, making him look at me. “Check everyone for trackers!” He gave me a thumbs up, and I quickly veered around to head toward the inferno. I needed to see. I had to know. “No!” Mike’s voice boomed, and I whirled to see him intercept Cole as he hurled himself at the burning vehicle. “You don’t want to see that! Cole, stop!”
Blog Tour: Wonder Boy: Owned by Calan Mercer
Book Title: Wonder Boy: Owned
Author: Calan Mercer
Publisher: Valleyburn Press
Cover Artist: Neslihan Yardimli for BookCoverZone
Release Date: September 15, 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
Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited
He came for the job. He left owned.
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.
A dark MM romance about power, possession, and the cost of being chosen by a man who doesn't share what he claims.
“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.”
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.
Website | Facebook | Newsletter Sign-up
Twitter/Pinterest/TikTok @calanmercer
Instagram/Threads: @calanmercerwrites
Twitter/Pinterest/TikTok @calanmercer
Instagram/Threads: @calanmercerwrites
Monday, October 5, 2026
Release Blitz: The Crucible by Aoibh Wood
NEW RELEASE
Book Title: The Crucible
Author and Publisher: Aoibh Wood
Cover Artist: Rebecca Frank
Release Date: September 28, 2026 (InkColors) / October 5, 2026 (Amazon, Kobo, and wide)
Tense/POV: First person, present tense, single POV (Mora), with a brief closing interlude.
Genres: FF Fantasy/Romance (adult sapphic romantasy; dark academy elements)
Tropes: Enemies to lovers, forbidden love, hidden identity, slow burn, found family, morally gray love interest, sparring as flirtation, knife-gifting as a love language
Themes: identity and self-determination, loyalty vs. duty, surviving institutional cruelty, chosen family, queer joy (queernorm world — no homophobia)
Heat Rating: 4 out of 5 flames
Length: approx. 147 000 words
It is Book 1 of a planned series — the central romance arc resolves in this book (no romance cliffhanger); the wider series plot continues.
InkColors (early release, Sept 28)
Amazon (preorder, delivers Oct 5)
Additional wide retailers live on October 5
What the Empire forges, the heart unmakes.
The Crucible: the Empire’s brutal war academy, where the Aethyr-touched are forged into weapons and attachment is a crime.Aethyrim like Mora Dray don’t enroll. They’re delivered.
Property of the Empire. Trained to kill. Culled when they break.
Mora walks through the gates with quick knives, a closed mouth, and a secret that will hang her if anyone looks too closely. So the plan is the one that’s kept her breathing this long: be nobody. Head down, scores middling, name off every list. She has invisible down to an art.
Nobody warned her about Liora Skaggs.
Violet-haired, knife-scarred, a Fourth-Year who teaches First-Years how to survive their own knives — lethal by training, worse by reputation, the most dangerous woman in the Crucible. Everything about her should read as threat. Instead, she looks across her crowded training yard and sees Mora for who she is. Not the quiet candidate. Not the middling scores. Her.
And being seen by Skaggs doesn’t feel like the death sentence it should.
It feels like the first time anyone’s ever said her name.
What Skaggs offers isn’t kindness. It’s a blade flipped into the dirt at Mora’s feet and an unspoken order to pick it up. After that, every rule bends. Keep quiet becomes stand out. Stay hidden becomes midnight matches in borrowed leather. Stay alive, stay alive goes out the window somewhere around the first sparring session that ends dangerously close to desire.
But they’re both property, and property isn’t supposed to want things. Wanting Skaggs is the first thing Mora has ever done just for herself, and she is stupid with it, reckless with it, starving with it.
Beyond the walls, the war she was built for is creeping closer, dragonfire is no longer rumor, and the Empire’s version of the truth is fraying at the edges.
Her secret could get her killed.
Skaggs almost certainly will.
She can’t get enough.
Skaggs is wearing a Mournborn knife on her hip, just like the one I’m carrying. Instinct has my hand dropping to hide mine, but all it does is get her attention, and her gaze dips. It lands exactly where my palm rests on the hilt and the corner of her mouth curves upward. Then she stalks over and looks down at me like I’m late for something, hands on her hips.
She has at least six inches on me.
I gulp.
She leans closer and sniffs.
“You, Northern girl,” she says, flipping her knife into the dirt at my feet. “Hand off that blade and follow me.”
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. I really didn’t want to go first, but I do as ordered, handing my knife to Rendi. “Hold this, please.”
She takes it, her shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.
I shoot her a rude gesture and make my way into the ring. I don’t strip this time. I’d rather she get a handful of shirt than, say, my arm. Or a tit. I like my parts where they are.
“Sir” has already engaged with someone in the other ring, and he’s not really trying very hard. He doesn’t have to. The kid’s slow as fuck and can barely remember to keep his hands up.
Ranson watches them for a minute, then turns to us. “Well?”
“Skaggs,” she says by way of introduction.
“I know,” I answer. “You have a reputation.”
She shoots a look over her shoulder as we enter the ring. “Do I? And what do they say, Northern girl?”
I look away trying to hide my flush, as my heart does that thing it does when a pretty girl looks at me like that. Kitty looked at me like that, and we ended up in bed ten minutes later.
I stuff that thought down… hard.
Head in the game, Mora. Head in the game.
In the ring, Skaggs drops into a pretty standard Mournborn fighting stance. I mirror it. I need to make this look convincing, but I need to lose. Probably not hard given the shape I’m in. Trina was outmatched by skill. This girl is on a whole different level.
She steps forward and takes a few half-hearted jabs at my face. I dodge easily.
She takes a few more. They’re a little quicker. I dodge left and right, then have to lean back as she follows with a hook.
My left hand snaps out and catches her in the mouth. Her head rocks back, but I don’t press. I swap my footing, hopping a bit.
As I circle, I catch Brask and Ranson watching us. I don’t pay attention to their conversation, not really, but I can hear them. I catch bits and pieces: “not bad,” and “scary with a knife.”
Skaggs moves in, putting in a lot more effort. Her blows come insanely quick, and the best I can do is retreat, block, or weave my head out of the way. It’s a pattern, though, and one Miriam taught me. I jump and spin-kick as her leg sweeps low. It leaves my boot print on her shirt and sends her to her ass with a loud grunt.
Everyone’s up now, watching us.
It won’t be much of a show. I’m already winded and my shoulder’s killing me. Still, give me a few months of conditioning and healing, and this will be a whole different match.
She rolls up, licking a bit of blood off her lip.
Well. I’ve got her attention.
She barrels in, and I’m down in four hits with a split lip and a vicious shot to the eye that I’m sure will swell shut.
It isn’t flashy. It isn’t even dramatic. It’s efficient and clinical. I lose the rhythm for half a second and she takes the rest of it from me.
Then she drops down on my chest, pinning my arms beneath her shins. Her weight settles like a verdict. She’s not even breathing hard, and her violet eyes lock on mine like she’s waiting to see what I do with humiliation.
Her crotch is practically in my face.
“Make her lick it!” someone calls.
I scowl, ready to spit back something filthy.
Skaggs’ hand settles at my throat. She doesn’t squeeze. She just leaves it there, long enough to let me know she could.
Heat floods me, somewhere between need and humiliation.
Her eyes bore into mine. Not offended, just… curious. Like she wants to see what I’ll do with that cat-call.
My mouth curves. “You’ll have to buy me dinner first.”
Her lips twitch with just the hint of a smile.
Not for them.
For me.
Then my hand slaps the sand.
Gods help me. My head is definitely not in the game… well, not the right one.
She stands and hauls me up like I weigh nothing, then marches me back toward my seat beside the ring. As she scoops her knife from the ground, her gaze flicks to mine. And the spark there is electric. Then she turns away and wanders off to select another victim.
“I couldn’t decide if she was gonna fight you or fuck you,” Sirenna says when I sit down.
I cough to hide my laughter, then pat my chest and whisper, “Be still, my beating heart.”
Aoibh Wood is the bestselling author of The Senator’s Widow — a #1 title in Amazon’s Lesbian Thriller category — and the Cait Reagan urban fantasy series. A veteran of the tech and cybersecurity world, she writes romance, intrigue, and the supernatural with queer women at the center. Her sapphic enemies-to-lovers romantasy, The Crucible, releases September 28 on InkColors and everywhere October 5. She lives with her wife and their cat, Papaya.
Bluesky: @aoibhwood.com
Twitter/X: @aoibhwood
TikTok: @aoibhwood
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