Release Post | Naked Gardening Day Box Set

Yesterday, the Naked Gardening Day Box Set was released 🥳

Where I’m at there are hardly any leaves left on the trees, the mornings are foggy and the wind is cold, so I don’t recommend getting naked in the garden. To each their own, of course. If you’re into freezing your butt off, then go for it! But if you’re more like me, then may I suggest snuggling up on the couch? Grab a blanket, something warm to drink, and your favourite reading device.

The Naked Gardening Day Box Set will transport you to warmer times with sun-warmed skin and colourful flowers.

There are five stories written by five different authors – Holly DayNell IrisA.L. LesterK.L. Noone, and Amy Spector . The stories are not linked and the only thing they have in common is that they’re celebrating World Naked Gardening Day. The level of gardening varies in the stories, but somewhere, somehow, for some reason, someone will be naked in a garden.

Below you can read the first chapter of my story, Perfect Rows.

Naked Gardening Day Box Set


Celebrate World Naked Gardening Day with five gay romance novellas! 

The Naked Gardening Day stories are a collaboration between Holly Day, Nell Iris, A.L. Lester, K.L. Noone, and Amy Spector. They comprise five MM romance novellas featuring being naked in a garden somehow, somewhere, to mark World Naked Gardening Day on the first Saturday of May. 

Contains the stories: 

Perfect Rows by Holly Day: Everything would’ve been perfect if Grayson hadn’t been forced to share his garden with Cam. Grayson wants to grow vegetables, and he has a plan for how to do it. Cam loves flowers in perfect rows, but Grayson is incapable of growing things in lines. Most days end in conflict, at least until Grayson realizes he can shut Cam up by kissing him. But will they ever be able to agree about the garden? 

Strike a Pose by Nell Iris: Didrik would do anything for his BFF Filip, including taking naked pictures for a charity calendar of his dad Johan, the stunning man responsible for Didrik’s gay awakening. Now a widower, Johan is ready to move on. As they start the project, the attraction between them grows. Their connection is easy, but not without challenges. Will they get their happily ever after? 

The Death of Digby Catch by Amy Spector: When August Catch arrives at the Arachne’s Loom estate to collect his late Uncle Digby’s things, he is thrown together with Theo Webb, the heir to the Webb family fortune. The attraction is instant. When Theo begins to suspect Digby may have been murdered, he and August will need to work together to discover the killer, and not let the thing growing between them be a distraction. 

The Hermit of Aldershill Manor by K.L. Noone: Charlie’s ready to start a new job and life at Aldershill Manor. As a historian, he’s thrilled to dive into the archives. And he can run from a messy break-up. And explore lovely gardens, too. Lionel does not like tourists, conversations, or social niceties. But he loves his job: helping beauty grow. When he finds the new historian caught in a storm, he offers shelter, which might bloom into more. 

Warning! Deep Water by A.L. Lester: Spring 1947. England has just come through the worst winter in living memory. Peter’s been drifting since he left the army a year ago. George is lonely, despite the busy horticultural nursery he owns. Peter’s decision to take a swim in the irrigation tank presents them both with the chance to reach out and help each other. Can two misfits find a way to fit together with someone after all?  

Buy links: 

Gay Romance Box Set: 86,131 words 

JMS Books :: Amazon 

Annoying little shit

Perfect Rows

Chapter 1

Grayson Dawe walked through the garden. The spring night was cool, and the scent of lilacs clung to the air. His shoulders ached from a long day at work, and he was sweaty and had paint in his hair since he’d forgotten to put his cap back on after the breakfast break. The beer he and Ryan, his best friend and colleague, had grabbed after work had turned into three, and now it was getting dark.

He crouched to look at the plants in the raised bed. He had great plans for the garden this year. His goal was to not have to buy any vegetables at all from May to… he hoped September, but time would tell. He still had a lot to learn, and he had to share with Camden.

As soon as the thought flitted through his mind, he glared at the house that had belonged to his grandmother’s sister. He’d loved coming here as a child. They had two cottage-style houses facing each other, and between them was a big kitchen garden they’d shared.

As a child, he’d thought the garden was huge, and it was big, but not the maze of beds he remembered it as. It was like one of those Victorian kitchen gardens with beds surrounded by gravel paths. Some years ago, when Granny’s joints gave her too much trouble to handle being on her knees, he and Ryan had turned every plot into a raised bed. It had taken ages, but it was worth it. They’d built brick walls tall enough for her to sit on, and he could still picture her there with her hands in the dirt and a big smile on her lips.

He missed her.

His great grandfather had bought the land, built the houses, and then given it all to his two daughters. They’d raised their families there, sharing space and resources. When his great-aunt had died, his uncle had sold her house, and they’d struck some weird deal with his grandmother so they still shared the garden. It had been much easier if they’d divided the property, then Grayson wouldn’t have to share a garden with Camden fucking Hensley. Annoying little shit.

Grayson had moved in last spring after Granny had passed away, and they’d gotten off on the wrong foot right from the start. He had plans for the garden, Cam had plans for the garden, but they weren’t the same plans.

Camden wanted flowers, wanted the garden to look pretty and to have everything in perfect rows. Grayson wanted food and didn’t give a shit about how it looked.

He strolled along the garden bed, smiling at a small tomato plant sticking up in the middle of the radishes. There was another one right in the middle of the pak choi he’d planted. He assumed they came from the compost. He composted everything he possibly could, and last year he’d had volunteer potatoes that had to have come from the compost. They’d grown right in the middle of the strawberries and had driven Camden mad.

He loved getting bonus potatoes, but the biggest joy was watching Cam glare at the plant every time he walked past it.

Grayson would have to do his best to protect the stray tomatoes, it was free food, and nature didn’t grow in strict lines.

Cam would pull them out if he got the chance.

Grayson glared at Camden’s house again. A light shone in the kitchen, and his stomach rumbled as he pictured Cam cooking in there.

He needed food, and he needed a shower. Abandoning the tomato plants, he headed for the door. He stopped by the raised bed closest to his house and plucked some lettuce and carefully pulled a couple of turnips from the soil. He wasn’t a big fan of turnips, but since he was challenging himself not to buy any vegetables, he needed early and fast-growing kinds, and turnips, sadly, fit the bill. Roasted turnips weren’t bad, and he’d thawed some chicken to go with them.

Peeling, rinsing, and chopping, he soon had the food in the oven and rushed into the bathroom for a quick shower. The day melted away with the suds running down his body, and he groaned as he rolled his head to loosen his tense neck muscles. He’d been painting ceilings all day and looking up for hours on end caused strain.

Turning off the water, he stepped out of the shower stall and grabbed a towel. He dried his face and looked into the misty mirror, unable to see anything. Reaching over to the window, he pushed it open. The cool air wrapping around him made him shiver and right as he was about to step away from the window, he spotted movement in the garden. Camden.

His fair hair shone in the dark as he squatted and— Grayson cursed as he pulled something from the garden bed. Oh, hell no!

The bathroom door banged against the wall as he pushed it open. He ran down the stairs, crossed the kitchen, and yanked the door open. His bare feet hit the gravel path between the raised beds, but he couldn’t let the pain of the small stones digging into his feet stop him.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The towel caught in one of the rosebushes. Grayson yanked, but when it didn’t come loose, he dropped it. “Leave those tomatoes be!”

Camden stood, his eyes wide and his mouth open as he looked Grayson up and down. “Grayson.” His voice wasn’t more than a whisper, and Grayson noted he looked a little disheveled—Cam never looked disheveled. He was a suit and tie kind of person. His hair always cut at a perfect length and his hands always clean. Long slim fingers with neatly cut nails. Grayson spent more time secretly watching those hands than any sane person should.

“Don’t kill the volunteer plants.”

Camden frowned. “The what?”

“The self-sown plants, don’t touch them.”

Camden stared at him. “Aren’t you… erm… cold?”

Heat climbed Grayson’s face, but he hoped it was too dark for Cam to notice. “Don’t kill the plants.”

“It was in the wrong place.”

“There is no wrong place. If it’s there, it’s because nature wants it there, so leave it be.”

“Nature wants—”

“Put it back.”

Camden’s back stiffened. “I will not put it back.” He twisted his fingers and snapped the plant.

Grayson growled, curling his hands into fists and taking deep breaths. “It could’ve given us plenty of tomatoes.”

“It was in the wrong place.”

“There is no wrong place!” He took another deep breath. “Look. I know you’re stubborn and thick-headed—”

“Oh yeah, I’m thick-headed? At least I finished school.”

Grayson winced. The familiar pain laced through him, and he slumped his shoulders. He wasn’t up to Camden’s standards, but surely, they could live next to each other without fighting. “Can’t we just divide the garden?”

“No. Both the barbecue area, the garden shed, and the greenhouse would be on your half of the garden. That’s not fair.”

“The beds. Can’t we divide the beds? Half are yours to do what you want and half are mine.” It would make it a lot harder to grow all the vegetables he’d planned to grow. The greenhouse was filled with seedlings he’d planned to transplant to the beds this weekend, and not all of them would fit if he only could use half the beds, but it was better than nothing.

He shivered as he tried to make out Cam’s expression in the dark.

“No. The clematis and the lavender are on your side.”

“Fuck the flowers! I don’t have to have the beds closest to my house. Pick half of them as yours, and I’ll take the rest. And I want to discuss chickens again.”

“No chickens.” Camden crossed his arms over his chest.

“Fuck you, Cam.” He turned around and stomped off. The towel tore as he yanked it from the rosebush, but he didn’t care. He had to leave before he said something he’d regret.

* * * *

Camden Hensley watched Grayson stalk off and blew out a breath. That was one fine ass; too bad it was attached to an ass. The garden could be lovely, it was lovely, but it could be truly beautiful if Grayson could only find it in himself to be a little more organized. Everything was higgledy-piggledy with Grayson. Everything. The way he dressed, the mess in his car—he mixed black T-shirts with white when he washed, for fuck’s sake. Though, Cam guessed he should be glad he washed at all.

A painter.

Who wanted to paint walls all day? And this obsession with chickens… He shook his head. It had started as soon as Grayson had moved in. He hadn’t been there more than a day or two before he’d approached Cam about wanting to build a chicken coop.

They would not have chickens running around, roosters crowing at dawn—no, thank you.

Cam loved his home, loved the garden, and the peace that came with living outside the city. But everything had been so much better when Frances had been alive. She’d been an adorable little lady and instead of criticizing everything Camden did in the garden, she’d been pleased.

He couldn’t believe Grayson was her grandson. They were nothing alike—not in appearance, not in manner, and Frances had never snarled at him. She baked cookies and used them as bribes to get him to sit with her in the garden and chat for a bit. She was easygoing, satisfied with life, and it was a welcome break from the ugliness of the world.

The garden had been his oasis until Grayson had moved in. Loud, demanding Grayson. He towered over Camden as if he believed his size would intimidate him. It did, but he’d never admit it.

Cam remembered Grayson from school, though he doubted Grayson remembered him. He’d been the rail-thin kid in the corner with unwashed clothes whose mother forgot to pack lunch on field day. She forgot to serve dinner too, but it wasn’t as obvious as the lack of lunch on field day.

Grayson had been wild. Not mean, but loud, though Camden had been terrified of him. He’d spent more time roaming the corridors than he had attending lessons, and then one day he’d been gone. Cam didn’t know what had happened, but someone had said he was working at his uncle’s painting firm, and since he was a painter now, Camden assumed the rumor had been true. He’d been fifteen then, so Grayson had been sixteen.

Camden looked at the house Grayson had stormed off to. Twenty-one years of painting walls, no wonder he was growling all the time. Cam would’ve died of boredom. Perhaps he should give in on the chickens simply to give Grayson something new in his life—no. No chickens. No noise. No mess. If Grayson wanted more excitement in his life, he could go back to school and get himself a better job.

He glanced at the house again. Had Grayson put on clothes? Probably sweats and a holey T-shirt, a paint-stained holey T-shirt.

Release Day | Returning to the Werewolf

It’s release day!!! With this release, I have no idea what I’m doing. Not only is it a double release day, both Returning to the Werewolf and the Naked Gardening Day Box Set are out today, but I’ve spent the week at Mum’s, so I’ve had very little time in front of the computer. My routine has been messed up, and if there is one thing that stresses me out it’s having my routine messed up. But my head isn’t working these days so maybe it wouldn’t have made much difference.

It’s release day, and we’re happy about that. Yay! It’s important to find things to be excited about 😊

I wrote Returning to the Werewolf for Drowsy Driving Prevention Week. I’m afraid it encourages people to drowsy driving rather than discouraging them, but hopefully, you’ll realise there won’t be a naked man on the road simply because you’re driving when you’re tired. And Lex driving off the road and landing softly in the snow could’ve been so much worse, so don’t try it.

I’m gonna leave you with the blurb and the first chapter below and then I’ll be back to talk about the naked gardeners tomorrow 😄

Returning to the Werewolf

returningtothewerewolfLex Gray was in love once. He was young and gave his heart to Cash Udolph, who he believed would be with him forever. When his world fell apart, Cash was nowhere to be found. Lex left Warwood, the tiniest village ever placed on a map, and swore never to come back. Seventeen years later, he’s there to attend his grandmother’s funeral.

Lex needs to get out of Warwood, but driving in the middle of the night might not have been his best idea. A naked man jumps up on the road only to turn into a wolf before his eyes, and Lex slams the brakes hard enough to slide off the road. When Cash is called in to sort a situation with a human, he never expected the human to be his Lex. He’s been given a second chance, but Lex wants to leave as soon as possible. Can Cash convince Lex to allow him back into his life before the tow truck gets there?

Buy links

Paranormal Gay Romance: 20,870 words

JMS Books :: Amazon

Chapter 1

Lex Gray rubbed his eyes and squinted at the road. The snow was thick. He’d almost forgotten what the winters were like this far north. The yellow glow from the street lamps, the muted sound of the car as it drove over packed snow, and the curtains of pine trees made the night, if possible, darker.

He shouldn’t have left the motel, but when the clock hit two A.M., he couldn’t take it anymore.

 He’d sworn to never come back to Warwood. There was nothing here. Surely one of the smallest villages ever placed on a map—and in all fairness, most paper maps didn’t include it. On a digital one, you had to zoom in close. It had one of the smallest grocery stores he’d ever visited—more of a corner store to be honest. There was a one-pump gas station like you see in movies sometimes. A car driving up to the only house on the plain, the house itself about to fold, outside it, one rusty pump, and inside a rude person with some kind of quirk.

Lex was pretty sure every scriptwriter who ever put a scene like it into a manuscript had gotten the idea from Warwood—or not since it would mean they’d have to know Warwood existed, and he doubted they did.

In all honesty, Elsie Burton, who owned the gas station, was a caring, chatty person. Old as dirt and nosier than anyone he’d ever met, but she didn’t have an evil bone in her body.

Lex hadn’t gone near the gas station today.

And there was no plain, no dusty road where you could see for miles and miles. The pine trees boxed you in, there was no vistas anywhere. Unless you got up in the mountains; from there you could see to the end of the world. The river cut through the hills of the forest. Lex hadn’t been on a mountain since he left Warwood seventeen years ago, but he could still recall the feeling. It did something to a person to stand on a mountain, or to him at least. He connected with the universe.

He’d arrived in Warwood a few minutes before the funeral. He didn’t want to risk running into anyone before it started. He couldn’t stand any condolences, and he wanted to arrive late so he could avoid standing close to his dad. He didn’t want anyone to say they were sorry for Nana passing. Most of the people living here were sorry for her passing, he was sure of it. She was well-liked by almost everyone, but they could have their grief and allow him to have his. They didn’t need to share. They’d never shared anything with him before.

He was being unfair. Many of Nana’s friends had looked out for him when he was a kid, but no one had been there when he needed them the most.

The plan had been for him to stay the night at The Wolfhead Motel, but he couldn’t.

Warwood held nothing but pain for him, and now that Nana no longer lived, he’d never come back. At nineteen, when he’d promised never to set foot here again, he’d forgotten she wouldn’t live forever. It had never occurred she might die before him. She was the strongest person he’d ever met. He spoke to her almost daily and despite being over eighty, she still came to see him several times a year.

He never came to see her.

Tears rose in his eyes. He’d believed he was cried out.

He didn’t know how long tears silently trickled down his cheeks, but eventually, they ran dry. The hum of the car on the snow and the calm of the night lulled him into a state of desolate calm.

He had nothing left now.

At nineteen, he’d come out to his dad. How he’d missed Lex being gay was a mystery. Lex had been sure he knew, been convinced he loved him no matter what.

He’d been wrong.

How couldn’t he have suspected with Cash being with him most of the time? They never kissed in front of his dad, but more than once they’d lounged on the couch and watched a movie or two. Lex draped over Cash, Cash playing with his hair or massaging his neck. He could still remember those neck massages. A shiver slid through him.

Cash had been twenty-one then, his hands large and strong, but oh so gentle, and they absently moved in tiny circles over his neck.

Cash had been his everything.

Growling, he smacked his cheeks. This was not the time to think about Cash.

Minutes later, his eyelids were drooping. Yawning, he shook himself and rolled down a window. The frigid air should help wake him, but he yawned again. Fuck. Blinking, the road blurred before his eyes, and he rubbed them.

How many car crashes had he been to where the driver had fallen asleep behind the wheels? Too many.

He fumbled with his phone and connected it to the car stereo. With the windows rolled down and heavy metal loud enough to make the car speakers jump, he reached for his to-go cup with the coffee he’d bought on the way to the funeral but had been unable to drink since his throat had been blocked.

The coffee had ice crystals in it. Grimacing, he chunked it down. Caffeine should help him on his quest to reach the south before midday tomorrow, or he guessed it was today.

Minutes later, he shivered in the cold, but his vision was still blurred with exhaustion. Shit. He couldn’t stop now. He was in the middle of nowhere. Warwood might not warrant a dot on the map, but the stretches between Warwood and civilization were painted as large, forested areas. Pine, pine, and more pine. Snow, snow, and more snow.

And a naked man.

Lex hit the brakes as hard as he could. The back of the car lifted off the road, and he screamed. The man met his gaze and melted into a wolf, but it didn’t move off the road. It stood there watching as the back end of his car skewed to the left. The side of the car slid closer to the wolf as if in slow motion, then it all sped up and the forest spun around Lex.

He was pressed against the backrest and the seatbelt dug into his skin. Then it all came to a stop.

Hissing, he looked around. He was in the ditch next to the road. It wasn’t a deep ditch, but he was buried in the snow and didn’t think he’d be able to back out of there on his own accord. Fuck.

He searched his surroundings but couldn’t see any sign of the wolf. At least he hadn’t hit it.

Had it been there? He must have dreamed. Maybe there had been a wolf on the road, but no naked men survived in this cold, and men didn’t melt into wolves.

He didn’t think he’d fallen asleep, but… He frowned and looked around. His chest hurt where the seatbelt had dug in, but otherwise, he was fine.

Reaching for the door handle, he looked around again. Was there a wolf outside? A pack of wolves?

Slowly, he undid the seatbelt and pushed open the door. The silence was deafening and he hesitated to get out of the car. The warmth wouldn’t last long, but outside, he feared he’d freeze to death if the wolves didn’t get him first.

There wouldn’t be any houses nearby, so walking the road would do no good, but he needed to get hold of a tow truck or something. He walked around the car, his breaths misting around him, and he shivered. His phone had to be somewhere in the car. He’d put it on the passenger seat.

As he reached for the door handle, something moved in the periphery, and he froze. Slowly, he turned his head to be able to see.

Yellow eyes gleamed in the dark between the tree trunks, and Lex’s lungs ceased to function.

A wolf. Fuck.

His body didn’t move, but his mind raced. What did you do when attacked by wolves? Playing dead was for bears, right? Climb a tree? Wolves couldn’t climb trees, could they? He breathed in as silently as he could. Don’t run, don’t fall, don’t look them in the eye—he looked away—never turn your back to them. Those were all tips on what to do when encountering hostile wolves, right?

He chanced a glance, and the wolf was still there. Another one stepped out on the road. Crap.

The speeding thuds of his heart filled his ears. His fingers curled around the cold metal of the handle, and he yanked the door open. Moving as fast as he could, he slipped in on the passenger seat and slammed the door shut.

The wolf on the road lowered its head and stalked toward him. Lex hissed and fiddled with the button on the car key. The sound as the locks slid into place made him whimper.

* * * *

Cash Udolph woke with a snarl. Someone was outside the cabin. Half a second later, the someone who’d die a slow death pounded on his door. Growling, he flung off the cover and reached for a pair of sweats.

He yanked the door open, and when the scent of pack reached him, he growled.

“Eh… Cash?” Samus shouldn’t be out running in the middle of the night. He was a low-ranking wolf who could easily be attacked if he was on his own. Though, who’d attack him on pack land, Cash didn’t know.


Samus winced. “There… eh…”

Cash took a deep breath to clear his sleepy head. Samus smelled of fear. It wasn’t unusual the young wolves in the pack feared him—the older ones did too, but they’d learned to control it better.

“Yes?” He tried to keep the growl out of his voice. Samus was a good man. He didn’t know him well, but he brought out Cash’s softer side. He didn’t let it show; always did his best not to form any closer connections in the pack. He was the enforcer. When he’d been younger, he’d believed he could combine being a pack enforcer with a normal life, but he’d quickly realized his mistake. His father had always lived more like a lone wolf than part of the pack. Cash had hated it. He wanted the companionship, wanted the closeness all the others had, but after he’d had to kill Rosa Hemming who’d fed him cinnamon rolls as a pup, he understood his father’s decision. It was hard to kill a pack member, harder still to kill a friend.

“Gordon… erm… there was a car and he… eh…”

Ice filled Cash’s veins. It had happened once before that he’d been called out to kill a wolf who’d been too badly hurt even for the sped-up healing of a werewolf. “How bad off is he?”

“Oh no, he’s fine. It’s the human. Eh… the car spun and… Well, Gordon wants to kill him before he can tell someone. Jena said no, but Gordon didn’t want to listen, and…” Samus rubbed his forehead. “I thought it best if you came.”

Cash nodded. “Did Arric send you?” Arric was their alpha. If he ordered Cash to kill the human, he’d have to kill the human. To this day, Cash had never killed a human, and he didn’t want to, ever. Humans lived under different rules. Humans were glorious. His mate was human. Though he’d abandoned him. Wincing, he turned to locate his boots. He stepped into them barefoot. Hopefully, it wasn’t too far away.

“No, I ran when Gordon and Jena argued about killing the human or not. We don’t kill humans even if they see us shift, do we?” The pleading tone made Cash look at him again.

“Do you know the human?” A few of the humans in Warwood knew of their existence, and there were many tall tales—most of them true, but the humans didn’t know. At least not the younger generation.

“No.” He shook his head. “It’s only—” He grimaced. “It wasn’t his fault, and he didn’t hurt anyone, and he looked… sad.” Samus sucked in a breath. “And Gordon is an ass.”

Cash hid a smile. Samus had one of the gentler souls in the pack, and it wouldn’t surprise Cash if he became a healer or a teacher or something along those lines. Right now, he worked part time in the library in Riverside Grove, but it was too far to drive to keep up in the long run. He helped Arric out too.

Gordon wasn’t alpha material, but he believed he was. He was dominant, but he didn’t have any sense. Luckily, Arric was still strong enough to wipe the floor with anyone challenging him.

Cash was as dominant as Arric, and he might be physically stronger, but there was no animosity between them. Being pack enforcer was the only hereditary title in the pack, so it didn’t matter if Cash was dominant, strong, big, vicious, or whatever else people might describe him as. He could never be alpha, and he didn’t want to be. He was outside pack order, much like an omega would be. The pack didn’t have an omega. He looked at Samus again—no, not an omega, but there wasn’t much dominance in him. Cash’s heart melted, and he cursed himself. Protectiveness welled up inside of him. Samus reminded him of Lex. His Lex. Lex who’d he abandoned when he’d needed Cash the most.

 Had Lex been a wolf, Cash didn’t think he’d be an omega. He didn’t shy away the way Samus did, but then again, Samus was a submissive wolf. Lex wasn’t submissive. He wasn’t dominant in the way a dominant wolf was, but he was strong. He collected people’s pains and sorrows from them—Cash’s included. Lex allowed him to dream, to want, to be happy. With Lex he could be more than the pack enforcer. He could be himself.

He shook his head and focused on the now. “Is it far?”

If Gordon had killed the human before either Cash or Arric made the decision, Cash would have to punish him. He might agree with Samus—Gordon was an ass—but he was tired of scrubbing blood stains off his clothes.

“Through the woods. It’s on the road toward Riverside Grove.”

Not far. Cash grabbed his jacket. He didn’t have a shirt, but his jacket was warm, and if he needed to, he could always shift into a wolf. “Lead the way.”

Giveaway | November

Book Giveaway

Time for the 11th giveaway of the year!

Last year, I published How to Soothe a Dragon in November to celebrate National Button Day. It’s a… I would call it a paranormal romance with dragon shifters, but the dragons are aliens, so I guess we’re meddling in sci-fi too.

Ofelia doesn’t have anything that’s a good match, but we’re throwing in Nine Stones since both stories have crazy neighbours. Nine Stones is a paranormal story about Felix who has a neighbour, Kirk. The problem is he keeps killing Kirk’s cat, but every time he runs over there to tell him of his crime, Kirk is gone. And then the dead cat is gone too. And Kirk looks like someone’s run him over with a car…when Felix has run his cat over with his car.

If you want in on the draw, hop on over to Kingsumo and type in your email address. You’re not subscribing to anything, but make sure you use an address you check since it’s the one Ofelia will contact you on if you’re the winner.

Join the draw!


Derek Herman is living a nightmare. Long before he was born, the planet was taken over by a mind-controlling alien race, and everyone is affected except for him. Derek does his best not to draw attention to himself, but it’s not going well.

Ocren Starburst is obsessed with his human neighbor. Every time he sees Derek, he wants nothing more than to grab him, hold him, and keep him forever. And four years of chasing him up the stairs in their apartment building has resulted in Derek refusing to even acknowledge his existence. That is, until Derek accuses Ocren of breaking into his apartment.

Derek found a button on his living room floor, the same kind of button Ocren wears on his police uniform. And while Ocren hasn’t broken in, he knows the button means someone has. Ocren’s race has kept their shape-shifting abilities secret for years, but now his other form wants out to slaughter everyone that dares to get too close to Derek. And staying in control proves hard when threats toward Derek increase.

Will they be able to keep Derek safe without Ocren losing control of his dragon self?

28,195 words

Read an excerpt

Nine Stones

The only thing worse than having a hot neighbor you’re too intimidated to talk to is accidentally hitting his cat with your car.

Felix Lane was perfectly content to spend the rest of his days with Sunny, his canary life companion, in their quiet little corner of the suburbs. But then Kirk Shoo with his unusual eyes moved in across the street, and Felix’s carefully constructed life is starting to unravel.

When your every bad-boy fantasy lingers at the mailbox, stands too close and smells too damn good, what’s an under-appreciated administrative assistant to do? Besides sneak out the backdoor to go to work? But when Kirk’s cat runs out in front of Felix on his way home, he has no choice but to face the music and his dream man. Unless …

What starts as a tragic accident turns into something far more bizarre. And when Felix’s backyard begins to look like a pet cemetery, he has no choice but to come clean. That is, if he can manage to find his sexy neighbor at all.

24,139 words

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