Throwback Thursday: Chapter and Verse by Willa Okati #LGBT #GayRomance #PNR #werewolves #TBT @willaokati @changelingpress

Love between two Omegas is forbidden. But Carey’s determined to break all the rules.


Chapter and Verse (Omega Wolves 7) by Willa  Okati

Publisher: Changeling Press
Genres: Paranormal (Werewolves/Shifters), Gay
Length: 54 pages

Put aside by his former mate for his inability to bear children, Omega Lane retreated into the Alaskan interior and has lived there alone ever since. He’s a lone wolf and a hermit, not part of the world and no longer wanting to be.

Until Carey comes across his path. Younger, and also an Omega, Carey’s on the run from an Alpha who won’t take no for an answer. Though Carey thinks at first he might be pregnant, he soon learns that isn’t the case — instead, he’s going into heat.

Carey doesn’t want or trust an Alpha anywhere near him. Lane, who has kept his preference for Omegas hidden for years, is the only one Carey chooses to trust. But can Lane let Carey into his life after living alone for so long?

And what if Carey decides he doesn’t want to leave?

Purchase from Changeling Press

also available at Amazon, B&N, iTunes, and Kobo


The entire point of living as a lone wolf in the interior of Alaska was the blessed solitude of it all. Lane hadn’t seen a face he didn’t know, and hadn’t been bothered by any familiar acquaintances for almost five years.

Until today.

Alaska boasted the only flag-stop trains still in existence in the United States. With a line running through the heart of the wilderness, would-be passengers who likely didn’t have piped water, much less Wi-Fi, could wait by the side of the tracks and flag down an oncoming train if they needed to go to town. Lane kept his visits to a strict quarterly schedule — biannual if he could manage it, and sometimes he could. But no matter how well anyone planned, they would eventually run out of essentials like coffee, and a trek couldn’t be avoided.

Of course, not knowing exactly when the train would come could mean hours of waiting in thigh deep snow, but those were the breaks.

Lane had just wrapped his fleece-lined coat more snugly around his narrow shoulders when there came a racket he hadn’t heard in years. It was so unfamiliar that at first he pricked up his ears in confusion, unable to identify the noise.

But when the Omega struggled free of his tree line, it all came flooding back. Lane’s lips parted in shock at the sight of a stranger on his property — and a clumsy one at that, clearly unused to walking in snow this deep, stumbling every other step and showing signs of having fallen flat on his face several times in recent hours.

So surprised was he that he couldn’t speak a word until the stranger had come within arm’s reach of him. The Omega stopped there and searched Lane’s face with desperate speed, then let his breath out in a puff of — relief?

“You’re not an Alpha,” the Omega said. He had a sweet voice made ragged from exertion. “You’re not an Alpha, are you?”

Lane’s teeth ached from the cold, and he finally remembered to close his mouth. “No. I’m not.”

The sound of his own voice was strange to him after three solid months of silence, but the words came out as they always had. Clipped, cool, precise. Emotionless. He knew how he must look, returning stare for stare with the Omega. Too tall, too thin, and too wiry for any kind of beauty, with a Madonna mouth and blue eyes like chips of frozen sky.

There wasn’t any way to avoid the impression of a disapproving monk, so he usually didn’t bother. He folded his hands in front of him and lifted his chin. “Who are you?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry. I know that was rude. But I had to be sure,” the Omega said in a rush, with an embarrassed shrug. “You look like an Alpha from a distance.”

“You don’t.”

The Omega paled and looked down at his boots. “Oh.”

Why is that a bad thing? Lane wondered. It was true. Small and slim and delicately shaped, this one shouted Omega from the second he came into sight. True, he would be better described as “cute” than pretty, with a spray of freckles across his nose and cheeks — and his hair! It looked like he must have worn it long, then tied it up in a ponytail and cut it off just above the band with a pair of kitchen scissors. Dull ones. “And you didn’t answer my question. Who are you?”

“I did answer. I said it doesn’t matter.” The Omega lifted his head, strong emotion giving his skin color despite the cold. “Where are you going?”

Lane considered not replying, but the old habits of politeness ran deep. “Talkeetna. For supplies.”

The Omega’s lips moved in what looked like a silent thank you. He made a sudden movement that culminated with his pressing a bundle of folded bills, mostly ones and fives, into Lane’s hand. “Buy my ticket for me with that. Please.”

Lane didn’t close his fingers around the money. “What on earth?”

“Please,” the Omega begged, casting a wary glance toward Lane’s tree line. “Please. You look like an Alpha from a distance.”

Yes, and being reminded of his failures wasn’t exactly winning him over to the Omega’s side. “It’s not the 1800s anymore. Omegas are allowed to buy their own tickets.”

“I know, I just — please.” The Omega tried to close Lane’s fist, his fingers slim and cold. No gloves? If he wasn’t a shifter, he would have succumbed to frostbite hours ago. Even so, he had the luck of the devil.

Lane pressed his lips together. “Who are you?” he asked for the third time. “What kind of trouble are you in?”

The Omega shook his head. “I can’t — I mean, I’m not — I’m not in any trouble. I swear I’m not.”

“Yes, you are, and you’re a bad liar on top of it.” Lane rubbed at his forehead. Oh, this one was trouble walking. Anyone could see that. And yet… Lane knew a few things about wanting to run away from your worries, and your worse-than-worries. Hadn’t he done exactly that? Looking at the Omega’s huge, pleading eyes, how could he do anything besides help?

The train was coming. Lane could hear its great engines roaring and chugging in the near distance. He had a minute, or less, to make up his mind. He let out a long breath that puffed white vapor in the frigid air and closed his fingers around the Omega’s money. “On one condition. You tell me your name.”


Willa Okati is made of many things: imagination, coffee, stray cat hairs, daydreams, more coffee, kitchen experimentation, a passion for winter weather, a little more coffee, and a lifelong love of storytelling. She is definitely one of the quiet ones you have to watch out for.

You can reach Willa at

Join Willa on Facebook at


Impossible by Allyson Young #EroticRomance #Contemporary #pregnancyromance #NewRelease @allysonyoung45 @evernightpub


Both being extremely independent and familiar with rejection, Celeste Hill and Elliot Godwin have a short but intense time together, something very special.


She heads off to a coveted job, leaving him to puzzle out how he might pursue a connection he’d never dreamed of having. And, despite pursuing her dream, Celeste can’t stop thinking about Elliot and what might have been.


Returning home before he can follow her, she tells him they are pregnant. Impossible. Believing he’s sterile, the reason his wife left him, Elliot is devastated—and lashes out. Celeste flees his cruel words, putting distance between them, and now determined not to name him as the father of their child.


But miracles do happen and men can come to their senses. Elliot follows his heart and Celeste again opens hers for their happily ever after.




Amazon  Evernight Publishing   Kobo   B&N




Knowing the majority of her response was hormone-fueled did nothing to mitigate the meltdown. How hard had she held herself against the news until now, sharing with no one but him? Forgoing the acceptance and excitement of her friends and family… Doing the right thing, notifying the father first. She sobbed and choked until she thought her throat would tear and her lungs collapse, her cheeks raw with the deluge. Her baby… She pressed a hand against her abdomen, whispering a heartfelt reassurance. Not about you, sweetheart. I love you.

It felt like hours but was, in reality, a few short minutes before she wrestled back her composure, albeit as a soggy wreck of exhaustion.

Impossible. She’d sorted out the reasoning—and ensuing rejection—behind his flat comment in short order. But it wasn’t impossible. He was capable regardless of what he believed. The tiny seed in her belly was living proof.

But it didn’t matter. He thought she’d come to him, pregnant with another man’s child, to cadge… She couldn’t bear to think of what he thought of her. His opinion didn’t matter either. Asshole.

Fumbling for a wad of tissues, she mopped up what remained of her makeup and took a shuddering breath, pushing any thought of Elliot Godwin from her head.

A tap on the window drew a muffled shriek as she started, turning to stare at his unwelcome bulk hunched over her little car, his handsome face only inches away. His silvery eyes were narrowed, cold and impenetrable, not at all like the turbulent wash of emotion when he’d been as deep inside her as any man could be in a woman. Planting their child.

As emotionally drained as she was, she couldn’t help the faint shiver of that arousing memory before dispatching it. Stupid hormones.

She eased the window down a notch. “What?”

His gaze took in her face and she knew what he saw. She never cried prettily, but then she rarely cried. Make that never. Tears were for the weak. He would know that.

“Are you all right?”

Like he cared. She was a slut, remember? Well, maybe not—Elliot didn’t judge, at least about consenting adults sexing things up. So, what then? What was a woman called who tried to stick a guy with a kid that wasn’t his? Something far worse in his eyes, for sure.

“I’m fine.” She whirred the window back up and threw the vehicle into gear.

With cautious regard to his proximity, she drove forward and then guided the car back onto the pavement, ignoring his tall form in the mirror.



Allyson Young lives in cottage country, Manitoba, Canada with her husband and numerous pets. she has always enjoyed the written word, and after reading an erotic romance, quite by mistake, decided to try her hand at penning one.


A best selling Amazon author, a hybrid author, as of December 2017, along with her alter ego and three co-authors, she has published four series and several standalones in contemporary, sci fi, fantasy and suspense genres–50 books in total.


Allyson will write until whatever is inside is satisfied, until the heroes man up and the heroines get what they deserve. Love isn’t always sweet, and she favours the darker side of romance.

#NewRelease – In a Chord by @BethDCarter #MenageRomance #Contemporary #EroticRomance @evernightpub

Thank you so much for hosting me today! In A Chord is a re-release, previously published through another publishing house.  I was unsatisfied with the story because a writer’s craft constantly grows and gets better with every manuscript written.  Plus, I really hated the cover. In this business, you really are judged by the cover so with those two things in mind, I decided to take back the rights, rework the plot a little and lucky for me, Evernight said yes.

What inspired you to begin writing In A Chord?  What trivial events could you explain behind writing your story?

Music is a big inspiration to me and I wanted to write something set in that genre. In my younger days, I used to go dancing a lot, and the best clubs were always pounding out the base. I discovered the better the beat, the sexier the feeling. Swaying hips, rushing excitement.  It is definitely a very seductive atmosphere. When I dreamt up these characters, I wanted to bring that rush into the story.

Tell us about the characters.

The title is actually a play on words…a chord is three notes (or more) in harmony. I started out with the two men, Ash and Keaton, two men into heavy metal. Head bangers in their teenage years, starting a band up in the parent’s garage. I needed a female who understood both, because each has their own personality. This is where the band, Skillet, comes into the picture. One song, Awake and Alive, has a female voice and a fiddle, and that just made Momo come to life.

Was there as specific part of the story that you absolutely loved writing as well as not enjoyed writing?

To make the characters more human, I wrote a scene where one of the men is coming out of the bathroom, warning Momo not to go in for a bit.  I found it really funny.

There wasn’t much in this book I didn’t enjoy writing.  I’m a very liner type of writer, meaning I don’t really jump around scenes too much.  I start at point A and finish at point Z.  So, sometimes just writing the in between stuff, the ordinary day to day, can be tedious because your job is to still make that monotony interesting.

What other projects are you working on at the moment? 

Currently, I am working on a book where a woman finds out that her marriage certificate was never filed, making her not really married. This happened to friends of mine and I always wondered what would’ve happened if they’d not found out.

I have the follow up to my book Take Aim & Reload (Forgotten Rebels MC #4) in the works.

One of my publishers went out of business and I have the rights back to some of my books, so I’ll be working on those as well, making them better and resubmitting them to Evernight.  (Fingers crossed)

Whatever I write, it’ll have erotica romance themes through it.

In a Chord banner

Keaton Gates and Ashland Lance are lovers and musicians in a band called Endymion.  Keaton believes there is something missing, not only from the sound of their music, but also in their lives.  When he hears Momo Willows singing Endymion’s signature song, he knows she’s the muse he’s been waiting for.

At first, Ash Lance is jealous of the new girl in Keaton’s life until he meets her.  Momo is unlike anyone he’s ever met and they soon discover that they connect on many levels.  But he’s reluctant to take her away from Keaton just as Momo refuses to come between them.

Keaton is quick to assure them he wants all three of them to learn to be in a ménage relationship, but as they learn how to live and love together, another threat is moving between them, threatening to take Momo away….forever.


Evernight Publishing

In a Chord Cover


“Keaton, Momo and I…we, um, kissed.”

He saw Keaton shoot a look at Momo, then down at her hand on his knee, then back to Ash. “What?”

“Keaton,” Momo murmured, shame shining on her face. “It just happened and I’m so sorry. There’s something tangible between he and I, just like I felt toward you, and that’s why I don’t think I can be with you—”

“She knows about us,” Ash interrupted her, picking up her hand. He saw Keaton’s gaze follow the gesture. “She doesn’t want to get between us.”

“What?” Keaton said again, his tone going a bit deeper.

“She figured it out but it felt right to tell her.” He ran an agitated hand through his hair. Momo took her hand back and placed it in her lap. “Keaton, man, I don’t know what to say.”

He sat silent for a moment, obviously thinking things over. “Is that why you tried to bail earlier?”

She nodded.

“Is that all you did? Just kiss?”

“Yeah. That’s it, I swear. I mean, I wanted to do more, but I know she’s your girl—”

“Ash, it’s okay.”

Ash waited because he knew something more had to be coming. If Keaton were to tell him to stand and take a punch, he would be jumping up and bracing himself.

“No, Ash, it’s really okay,” Keaton assured him.

Ash saw the surprise he felt mirrored on Momo’s face. Keaton just smiled at them.

“For a while I knew that something was missing in our lives,” Keaton continued. “Not between you and me because I love you, you know, but I knew there was something out of place. I just didn’t know what, and then, when I heard Momo sing, when I talked to her and heard her passion for our music, it all kind of clicked.”

“What clicked?”

“That missing element in our music, in our lives, was her.”


Beth Carter

I like writing about the very ordinary girl thrust into extraordinary circumstances, so my heroines will probably never be lawyers, doctors or corporate high-rollers.  I try to write characters who aren’t cookie cutters and push myself to write complicated situations that I have no idea how to resolve, forcing me to think outside the box.  I love writing characters who are real, complex and full of flaws, heroes and heroines who find redemption through love.

Amazon author page:

Throwback Thursday: The Slayer by Stephanie Burke #interracial #BDSM #PNR #TBT @Flashycat @changelingpress

When two slayers meet the results are explosive. But if they work together, they may come out alive.


The Slayer by [Burke, Stephanie]

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres: Paranormal, BDSM, Interracial, Suspense, Vampires
Length:  256 pages

Revenant is what they call him. For centuries, Kye has not lived, he has merely existed. Moving from city to city, continent to continent, Kye is always searching for the one man who visited upon him the destruction of his family and the shattering of his soul.

Tali is a woman with a mission of her own. Her objective, find the vampire Balthazar and, by any means, send what is left of his soul fleeing from this life.

When two slayers meet, the results are bound to be… Violent. Explosive. And erotic. But if they both work together, they may overcome the insane odds stacked against them and, just possibly, come out alive.

Purchase from Changeling Press

also available at Amazon, B&N, iTunes, and Kobo


God, he hated enemas.

But a man — he snorted at the thought — had to do what he had to do. With a grimace of disgust, he quickly prepared the small plastic bottle and thoroughly cleaned his insides before he headed for the showers. He had to scour away the feeling of violation before he soaked in the vanilla scented waters he’d prepared earlier.

The comforting smell of the perfumed steam was incentive enough for him to hurry through his scrubbing so that he would have adequate time to soothe himself in the steaming waters of his bath.

He stared down at his feet morosely, watching the last of the soapy water roll down the drain, before crossing the tiled room on silent feet. Walking quietly had become second nature to him and more than once it had saved his life. With a barely audible sigh, he lowered himself into the hot water, shuddering slightly as it first burned then loosened his muscles, preparing him for what lay ahead.

He closed his eyes, inhaled her scent, and allowed his thoughts to drift.

Tonight could be the night he found the peace he craved by gleefully slaughtering that bastard and bathing in his blood.

It always came down to his maker and the blood. Both tasted of regret and salvation. The blood and Balthazar were all he craved, hated and feared.

He remembered his first taste, as her blood spurted wetly from her neck, her eyes going wide in pain and fear before they began to glaze over in death. He remembered the tearing at his own throat, his own screams and how sweet Balthazar tasted. How he’d begged for more.

The discreet beeping at his wrist pulled him from his circling thoughts. He had wasted enough time pampering his flesh. It was time to go to work. He rose from the tepid waters, his hair flowing down his body like dark silken waves, clinging to his muscled flesh as he stepped from the tub.

Heedless of the water that splashed the floor, he grabbed a large bath sheet from a rack and wrapped up his dripping hair, the scent of vanilla and cinnamon followed him as he moved. Vanilla was a comforting smell, but also one of remembrance. He would remember always how she delighted in its scent, how after days, she smelled like candy and rot.

He spun around to exit the bath, the smooth pale scars that scored his back catching the light from his bedroom. He’d worked hard so no scar tissue would hinder his movements, worked for years to make the scars soft and supple as the rest of his dark skin.

His eyes were a strange combination of green and gold that constantly warred for supremacy. It had a way of unnerving people, those swirls of green and gold, and that suited him just fine. He wanted to unnerve people, to make them back off with only a stare.

“Thank God gender-fuck is in,” he muttered, as he stopped in front of an expansive wardrobe. With his delicate features and a few strokes of a makeup brush, he could easily make himself look ultra-fem, though his masculine jaw line and the way he moved marked him unmistakably as male.

He tugged the towel away from his hair, tossed back the chin-length bangs that framed the front of his face, and whipped the long mass back over his shoulder.

Quickly he fashioned a long braid with the still slightly damp knee-length hair. He left the fringe to frame his face, making it easy to shake over his eyes and hide his face from scrutiny. He tied a small chain of bells to the end of his braid. It didn’t matter that they tinkled lightly as they brushed against his bottom; he could make them silent when he chose but that sound would likely drive his intended target mad as he tried to discover where the light, joyful sound came from as he was stalked and menaced.

Sometimes, he thought ruefully, he was a bit like a cat, toying with its prey before moving in for the kill.

In the length of the braid he hid seven long metal points, thin enough to be hidden totally in his hair, but strong enough to bring death at a distance.

Tucking his fringe behind his almost too-delicate ears, he returned his attention to the closet.

He pulled a pair of butter soft snow white pants from their hanger. He would have to be careful of the blood. He really liked these pants and no matter how you scrubbed, blood always left reddish-brown stains on white leather.

Slowly he eased the pants up his legs, loving the feel as the leather instantly conformed to his skin. These pants were tight enough that underwear was all but impossible. The pants closed with a thin leather thong that laced across his tight abdomen, emphasizing the muscle definition there as well as exposing the thin line of soft dark hair that started just beneath his navel.

His boots were cross-tied with silver buckles, leaving spaces for the knives and pockets that easily fit beneath the straps. These boots were also made of leather and had very low heels, heels that could be twisted the right way to expose secret compartments that were extra security for a man in his position.

Digging deeper in his closet, he pulled out an embroidered black and red knee length tunic. The Oriental style cut of the tunic included a banded collar and shoulder fasteners of white roped silk. The silk garment was light and easy to maneuver.

After securing the inside and shoulder fasteners, he stepped back to examine himself in the mirror. He looked like a beautiful, androgynous, and sadistic wet dream– almost like his true self. Turning, he wrapped himself in a cloak before ghosting away from his lair. He walked softly into the night, the tinkling of the bells in his hair the only signal of his passing.


Have You Been Flashed?

It’s the question Stephanie Burke is asking. Stephanie is a multi-published, multi-award-winning wife and mother of two whose unparalleled imagination causes her no end of trouble. From sex shifting shape-shifting dragons to undersea worlds, up to sexually confused elemental fey and homoerotic mysteries, all the way to pastel challenged urban sprites, Stephanie has done it all, and hopes to do more.

Stephanie is co-founder of the charitable organization Write 4 Hope, co-creator of the Japanese Culture and Anime Convention Mikomicon, home-school mom, English tutor, an orator on her favorite subject of writing and world building, a sometimes teacher when you feed her enough coffee and donuts, an anime nut, a costumer, and a frequent guest of various sci-fi and writing cons where she can be found leading panel discussions or researching more and varied legends and theories to improve her writing skills.

Stephanie is known for her love of the outrageous, strong female characters, believable worlds, male characters filled with depth, and interracial stories that make the reader sit up and take notice.

You can find Stephanie at

Off-Limits by Gale Stanley #NewRelease #GayRomance #shifters @galestanley

OFF-LIMITS Sanctuary 1



Heat Rating: SCORCHING

Word Count: 21,584

[Siren Classic ManLove: Erotic Alternative Contemporary Paranormal Romance, shape-shifter, M/M, HEA]


When Quinn Hart’s best friend died, he became guardian to the man’s ten-year- old son, Noah Stone. So far, Quinn has been able to conceal the growing attraction he feels for Noah, but now Noah is twenty-two and returning home from college. Honor still holds Quinn back from revealing his true feelings. Their community of bear shifters consider reproduction a priority, and Quinn fears they would never accept a homosexual relationship.

Noah has always hidden his romantic feelings for his guardian, but now he’s a man, and his desire is stronger than ever. Unable to handle his feelings, Noah leaves Oregon for a position in a research facility. But when Noah arrives in New York, he discovers his employer is harvesting bear bile and he’s the new source.

Quinn is determined to find Noah. But can he admit what he really wants before it’s too late?


Home. Noah had forgotten how much he missed the endless expanse of lush green landscape and the sparkling river. And the trees. Especially the trees. When the leaves whispered in the wind, it made Noah’s heart ache. Whoever had named their small town knew that trees were sanctuaries.

But for all that, home wasn’t a place, it was a person—Quinn. Noah could live anywhere with Quinn. But a life with Quinn was as likely as a sharknado ripping through Sanctuary.

Noah moved away from the window and gazed at his reflection. The mirror was wall mounted and speckled in places. The frame matched the wood dresser beneath it. A handknitted brown and tan spread covered the crude pine bed. The room had been decorated on a meager budget, but it was warm and comforting because Quinn had handcrafted all the furniture himself.

Noah’s bedroom hadn’t changed since he was a kid. Yesterday, when he’d first stepped through the door, he’d felt the walls close in on him. As a kid, this room seemed huge, but now that he was a man, he could see how small it really was. It felt surreal like turning back the clock, but not in a bad way. If only he could—

“Where’s the man of the hour?”

The sound of loud voices traveled up the stairs. More guests had arrived for the party. The community was small, but when everyone attended an event, it could be overwhelming. Noah checked his image in the mirror again. He’d already changed shirts several times, and he still wasn’t sure that he liked the blue chambray shirt he’d put on with his khakis. Why am I making such a big deal out of this? He felt like Marcus primping for one of those stupid frat parties. What difference did it make what color shirt he wore? Stop stalling, he told himself. You can’t stay in your room forever.

Noah stood at the top of the stairs. Below, friends and neighbors were chatting excitedly. Noah had nothing to say to them. He would disappoint them. Anxiety made his stomach churn.


Happy Reading!

Available at

Bookstrand | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

OffLimits teaser 1

Author Bio and Links

Gale Stanley grew up in Philadelphia PA. She was the kid who always had her nose in a book, her head in the clouds, and her hands on a pad and pencil.

Some things never change.

Website | Blog | Twitter | FaceBook | Instagram | Pinterest

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New this week at Changeling Press #NewRelease #EroticRomance @changelingpress @HarleyW_Writer @willaokati @MarieTreanor

New from Changeling Press – April 6th Releases

He wants to taste her, to touch her, to claim her. And once he does, he’ll never let her go.


Read an Excerpt

Purchase from Changeling Press

#NewAdult #OlderHero #Contemporary



Three Dragul-human hybrids wrestle with unsuitable sexual desires, and find unexpected love.


Read an Excerpt

Purchase from Changeling Press

#Paranormal #CyberPunk #Suspense



Fidelity. Loyalty. Passion. Beauty. Flight.

Read an Excerpt

Purchase from Changeling Press

#Paranormal #Gay #MeninUniform




Check out the other awesome titles available at Changeling Press!




Throwback Thursday: Dear Wolf by Laurie Keck #PNR #TBT #shifters @Lauragkeck


Dear Wolf (The Harbor Pack Series Book 1) by [Keck, Laurie]

Publisher: Coastal Escape Publishing
Genres: Paranormal, Romance Suspense
Length: 102 pages


“We all have something inside us we are fighting. Some have the primitive beast while some are just beasts without it.” ~ Jillian Turner.

Jillian Turner is exactly as her name suggests. She turns, and she is the youngest in a family of wolf shifters. She has found it difficult to embrace what her family refers to as their gift. To her, it has been a curse. From an early age, she’s kept her inner wolf deep down inside. After the loss of their parents, she and her brothers perceive the wolf differently. Jillian feels it to be as misunderstood as she. She also has a love of deer and believes it to be her animal spirit guide, which only contributes to shredding the family further apart. More like the woodland creature, a loner and a dreamer, Jillian begins to hide in the shadows and, in doing so, has learned to manipulate both the light and shade to her own needs.

Jack Malone was raised in the shadow of an abusive father. After an accident that killed both his mother and his younger sister, things became more violent and occurrences more frequent. Planning to move out of his childhood home right after graduation, he makes a last trip with his two best friends to the mountainous region of North Carolina. It is there that they plan to relax and be one with nature. And it is there that things go terribly wrong. They become one with nature. However, for one, it is much more than they bargained for.

When Jillian meets Jack ten years later, each has been harboring feelings and secrets. However, each will have to come to terms with the other’s past, as well as their own, if they are to ever survive in the life they hope to make for themselves. Can they accept the mistakes that have been made, or will one, or both, retreat back into the shadows?

Purchase at Amazon




Laurie Keck lives on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. She frequently visits the beach with her two small dogs, and enjoys quiet time in natural surroundings. As much as Laurie enjoys the ocean, she is equally at home amidst the forest and wildlife. Her passion is writing stories about love, romance, and fantasy. She is also a certified card reader and Angel intuitive. You can learn more about Laurie and her work, at