Welcome to Dark Moon Falls…where everything is not as it seems.

There are secrets, shifters, romance, villains, and so much more.

Including new releases!

Benjamin Martinez joined the most dangerous rogue shifter pack in the country on his pack alpha’s orders. For five years, he’s been trying to figure out how to take them down.

Hannah Montgomery left her old pack and moved to Dark Moon Falls in an effort to forget her past. A past that involved rogue shifters. She swore she’d never have anything to do with them ever again.

When Ben meets Hannah, he doesn’t intend to tell her who he is or what he does for a living. Except the rogues are now after his pack.

And her.


After draining the main vein and washing his hands, Ben tugged open the door to the men’s room as his pocket vibrated, indicating he had a text. Distracted, he stepped into the hall and slammed into another body.

Automatically, he reached out to steady the other person. His hands landed on the curve of a woman’s hips. A nice curve. The flesh underneath the skirt fit so nicely in his palms, he smoothed his hands down so that his fingers could stroke over a plump, yet firm ass.

“Hey!” The woman whose ass he was fondling gave him a shove; he realized what the hell he was doing and threw his arms into the air as he backed up a couple of steps.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to, uh…”

“Grab my ass? Because it sure felt like you deliberately put your hands on my rear and gave it a squeeze.”

He swallowed. “Um, sorry?”

She shook her head. “Whatever. Just don’t touch me again without my permission.”

A pretty face that was a dangerous mix of wholesome and sexy, plump cheeks, ruby lips, and wide, blue eyes was framed by vibrant, red curls. He’d always had a thing for redheads. And even though he should get the hell out of here and head back to where Vape and his crew waited on the outskirts of town, he stayed right there in that hallway and nodded. “I promise, next time, I’ll get your permission first.”

Like there would be a next time.

She canted her head. “You don’t look familiar.”

“Neither do you.” He grew up in this small town, so chances were good that if she had, too, they would have crossed paths at some point.

She glanced at the bar, like she was about to excuse herself and walk away.

“How come you’re hanging out with witches?” he blurted.

Jesus, he was usually way more suave than this. And honestly, he shouldn’t even be interacting. Even if this woman decided to give him her number—highly unlikely after this exchange—he’d never call it. He couldn’t. Maintaining contacts in Dark Moon Falls was dangerous to his undercover operation.

Turning back to look him in the eye, she arched her brow. “How come you’re hanging out alone?”

He shrugged. “Used to it.”

She mimicked his action. “I’m used to hanging out with witches.”


“The first person I met when I moved here was a witch. We hit it off, we started hanging out. Hence…” She nodded at the cluster of women bellied up to the bar. “Why am I even telling you this?”

He chuckled. “No idea. But I don’t mind. Tell me your whole life story, if you want.” Except he didn’t have time to listen to the woman’s personal history, and, frankly, he didn’t need to learn anything else about her because he was leaving town, hopefully sooner than later, and he had no idea when he’d be back.

“Maybe some other time. I’ve got to get back to my friends.”

She was tall and curvy and she walked away with a confidence that was both refreshing and a giant fucking turn-on.

His phone buzzed, reminding him why he’d run into her in the first place. He pulled the contraption out of his pocket and swore when he saw the messages on the screen.

Get back here. I want a full report.

Where the hell are you?

Both from Vape. Ben needed to get out of the Wolf Inn before the man came looking for him.

He hurried through the bar without looking at Lyall or Natalia or the group of women who had taken over the area near the pool tables. But he still noticed all of them.

Especially the redhead who paused in the act of selecting a pool stick to watch him leave.

You know you want to keep reading HERE!

So Many Books~Such An Important Cause

Title: Love Me Always: A Romance Anthology  
Genre: Multi Romance
Release Date: September 15, 2020
It’s all in the name of love…
Get lost in nineteen African American romances filled with passion, desire, and love. This collection includes short reads ranging from sweet to sensual, to dark and addicting. These dirty alphas and sassy heroines will keep you up until long past your bedtime. Believe us, there is something for everyone in this anthology. Don’t delay. This collection of tales will only be available for a short time. One-click now! Note: This collection contains material for mature readers (18+ and older) only. The publisher’s proceeds from Love Me Always will be donated in their entirety to the NAACP Legal Defense Fund. Please note that Love Me Always is not affiliated with or endorsed by the NAACP.
Authors featured: Peyton Banks LeeSha McCoy Ally Vance Theresa Hodge L. Loren E.S. McMillan Sade Rena Tami Lund Barb Shuler Marie Long ML Preston Ava Mallory Gwen Knight Reina Torres Amanda Faye Cara North Meka James A.C. Nixon Amabel Daniels

‘Picture This’ Fun Excerpt

The fourth and final Bryant Brothers book releases next week! I’m so excited that you all will finally get to read Elliot’s story. He’s the youngest of the Bryant Brothers, and if you’ve been reading the series, you have probably gone through a plethora of emotions associated with him, from annoyance and anger to frustration to maybe, possibly a little sympathy.

Well, on September 8th, you’ll get to join Elliot as he embarks on his happily ever after. That’s right, even Elliot gets to fall in love. No man left behind in this series!

“It’s you,” the guy standing outside her office said. His head was twisted over his shoulder, eyes widening as they stared at her.

Amelia glanced over her shoulder too, but there was no one behind her.

The guy finally turned fully around, and she was struck by two things: One, holy shit, he was gorgeous. Dark, wavy hair that was styled to look messy in an entirely sexy way. Eyes so pale that even from a few feet away she could tell they were blue. He wore that suit well, too.

Amelia appreciated a guy who could fill out a suit and look comfortable in it, too.

And this was the man from the lobby who had ensured she didn’t take a tumble into the potted plant like she had a dozen times before. How come no one else ever warned her or caught her elbow and guided her around the thing? Like, oh, the security guard who was on duty every time it happened.

This incredibly beautiful specimen of the human male did not look familiar, and while Amelia didn’t actually speak to most of her employees, she knew each and every one by face. And she definitely would not have missed his face. If she didn’t recognize him, then either he had just started today in some other department or—

“Are you my next interview?” She glanced around, looking for another person. “You aren’t supposed to be on this floor without an escort.”

He looked around too, his face pinched, like maybe he was confused. “Um, maybe I should just leave then.”

“Why? You’re here. Might as well come in and get it over with.” Good Lord, she sounded like she did sometimes with the men she attempted to date.

She was lousy at dating. She’d grown this company into a highly successful, multimillion-dollar business, but she couldn’t pick the right companion to save her damn life.

The guy—wow, he really was handsome—nodded and headed toward her. She almost wanted to stay standing where she was to see if he’d run into her, because if he did, she would totally cop a feel, which was highly inappropriate and not at all like her, so why in the world was she even having such ridiculous thoughts?

And anyway, he didn’t. He paused and waved his hand, indicating she should step into the office first. Which made him a gentleman, and strong, badass woman she may be, but she did appreciate old-fashioned manners.

Smoothing her hand down her black pencil skirt, she nodded and preceded him into the room. “Beautiful view,” he noted.

Keep reading on 9/8/2020 HERE!!


Tami Lund writes books, usually with heroes that are both funny and sexy. And the heroines are kind of cool, too. Check out her website: https://tamilund.com/

Is the 3rd Bryant Brother Ready for Love?

If you’ve been reading the Bryant Brothers series, I bet you’re wondering what’s going on with Kyle (brother #3) and Madison! Wonder no more, because their story is live as of this week! Oh my gosh, I’m so excited for you all to read this one!! 

Here’s a fun snippet for your reading pleasure!

Kyle sure was acting odd. Kind of goofy and awkward, like a kid in high school who’d invited a girl over for the first time.

To be fair, Madison supposed, he had just confessed that he’d not gone on a date in more than two years. That was a long time to go without female companionship. And knowing Kyle, by “date,” he meant anything at all to do with the opposite sex.

Whoa, had Kyle seriously not had sex in more than two years?

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked as he returned to the bedroom and handed her a fresh beer and the list of items he needed to pack. Striding over to the dresser, he pulled a stack of shorts out of a drawer and placed them in the open suitcase. Then he grabbed a pile of boxer shorts—he wore the loose-fitting kind, lots of bright colors and what looked like cartoon characters—and added them to the shorts. His cheeks got really, really red, and he wouldn’t look her in the eye while he did it, which was kind of cute.

“Have you seriously not had sex in two years?”

He dropped the pile of T-shirts he’d been about to walk over to the suitcase.

“Sorry,” she said, falling to her hands and knees to help gather the garments and place them on the bed.

“Why are you asking?” He sounded nonchalant, in that way that people who were trying extra hard to sound nonchalant did.

She refolded the T-shirts and added them the suitcase. “You said you haven’t gone on a date in two years. You don’t strike me as someone who’s into one-night stands.”

“I don’t mind one-night stands.”

“Really? Have you ever had one?”

He waited a beat. “No.”

She smiled. “Me neither.”

“Is it just me, or is this a weird conversation?”

“It’s pretty weird.”

He grabbed a couple pair of swim trunks and tossed them to her to add to the case. One by one, he passed her bundles of rolled socks, which he said were for playing golf. Apparently, he intended to play a lot of golf while they were in Florida.

Then he went to the closet and filled the rest of the case with nicer clothes: golf shirts and slacks and button-down shirts, including the one the groomsmen had been instructed to wear for the wedding.

“Toiletry stuff and a couple pairs of shoes, and I think I’m good to go,” he announced. “Plus, the chili is probably warm, so come on.” He bolted out of the bedroom while Madison followed at a much more sedate pace. As hungry as she was, her mind was on other things. Dating, sex, attractive friends…

They sat on the couch with their bowls of steaming chili and bottles of beer, and when Kyle reached for the remote, Madison stopped him. “Let’s talk about this dating issue.”

He groaned. “For a minute there, I thought we were going to pretend that conversation never happened.”

She chuckled. “No such luck. Tell me why you haven’t dated in so long.”

He buried his nose in his bowl. “Working too much, I guess.”

“I totally get that,” she admitted.

They finished dinner, and he took their bowls to the kitchen. She wandered into the room and propped her hip against the counter, watching as he cleaned out the fridge, dumping his leftovers in the trash.

“I have an idea,” she said when he returned from taking the bag out to the dumpster.

He washed his hands, then leaned against the counter and crossed his arms, facing her. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“We should have a one-night stand.”


OR, start the series HERE.

~ Tami Lund is an author, a wine drinker, a lover of animals, and she especially loves to help frustrating (and maybe clueless) men find their happily ever after!

Who Loves Vampires?

We’ve got a story bundle for you. Don’t know what that is? Here’s the gist:

  1. It’s a limited edition release. This means it’s only available until August 11 and then it’s gone foreverrrrr.
  2. You get to name your own price. Within reason, but yeah, whatever you think all those authors’ works are worth, that’s what you pay.
  3. All the books are in the same genre. In this case, it’s urban fantasy vampires.
  4. Some of the books aren’t available anywhere else. Some are, of course, but what about those others? It’s totally worth it to grab all of them.
  5. A percentage of the profits go to charity. In this case, it’s a wolf sanctuary in southern Ohio. Yeah, we think it’s a cool charity too.

Need a little more? Here are a few excerpts for your reading pleasure…

This one is from RESIST by yours truly (side note: I actually included TWO vampire books in this bundle, Resist and Eternity, so really, you get twelve books instead of eleven!).

I sat on the floor in the van while it lumbered through the streets of Chicago. I couldn’t see as there were no windows back here, however, at the rate of speed we were traveling, there was obviously no traffic, foot or vehicle. The St. Patrick’s Day revelers had all taken to their beds by now, to sleep off green beer and cabbage hangovers.

Wherever we were going, it couldn’t be too far from my home base, because dawn would be breaking soon, and at the moment, I was the most protected of all the vampires in the vehicle with me. Those guys in the front would start sweating as soon as the first rays of the sun spiked through the windshield. Depending on their age, they might freaking explode on impact.

The brakes squeaked as we came to a slow stop, and then I felt a blast of cold air, indicating somebody had rolled down a window. A couple of people spoke in low tones, and then the window was rolled up and we continued forward, driving at an unhurried pace, like we were in a residential area. Or, I learned a few minutes later, the alley behind a huge brick building. While the two guys from the van crab- walked me toward the structure, I noticed a small, gold placard affixed to the wall next to the door.

“Macy’s? You went through all this to take me shopping?”

“Shut the fuck up, smartass.” The guy to my left gave me a shake and then hissed when his hand came into contact with the silver chain.

I wanted to ask after Anya, but I didn’t dare show my hand, not yet, not when I had no idea what I was up against and was still confident they hadn’t hurt her. They hadn’t, had they?

“Get your hands off me, you asshole. Jesus, you’re right, I’m not wearing a bra. Does that make you happy? What the hell do you want me to do now, jump on a trampoline?”

Nope, she definitely wasn’t injured. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from grinning at her obvious disdain for whomever she was talking to. I’d love to see her jumping on a trampoline, with or without a bra, but I’d never in a million years say as much.

“Now that’s an idea—omph.”

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw the guy next to Anya double over; she’d either punched or kicked him. Served him right for assuming he could handle her. I had my doubts that even I could handle her, not that it would stop me from trying to find out.

After we figured out how to get out of this predicament, of course.

Here’s one from WICKED IMMORTALS by K.N. Lee…

Edwin Allington drank from a golden goblet, his eyes closed as the screams rippled through the stagnant air. It was a glorious melody, one he knew all too well. He’d been born into a world that hated him. 

A demon for a father, a dragon shifter from the Netherworld for a mother. And, neither of them stuck around to show him true love. He had to experience it on his own, from a woman who hated the sight of him.

He grimaced and opened his amber eyes to gaze upon the sea of bodies writhing on the floor of the dungeon. A harem of angels desperate for his love and affection. He sneered at the sight of them. 

Slaves. No amount of beautiful women could quench his thirst, and yet they came in hordes to pledge their loyalty and allegiance to him. No one even batted an eyelash when it was revealed that one fresh angel would be sacrificed each full moon to his hell hound. 

Enchanting them had been easy, and they proved loyal until death.

Olivia stepped beside him, her arms crossed over her full bosom. She tilted her head, dark hair cascading in lush waves over her shoulders.

“You do know that the Division will probably execute you for this,” she said, and yawned.

He drank the last of the wine and tossed the goblet down the stairs that went nearly one-hundred feet into the earth. It clanked against the stone until it met the grasping hands of his slaves.

“Perhaps,” he said. “But, I’ll risk it.”

She lifted a brow. “For her?”

Edwin’s jaw tightened as he turned away and left the dungeon hall. The door was closed by his guards and he stalked up the ancient stairs of his castle to step into the night.

Olivia followed, her question still echoing in his mind.

For her.

The angel who got away.

The angel he would lose it all for.

“Yes,” he said, pulling in a long breath of fresh air as he leaped into the night sky and transformed from a man, to a black dragon with the wingspan the blotted out the moon and scales that glittered in its light.

Olivia didn’t follow, which was just as well. He needed to be alone.

Inanna would be his…even if he had to slay millions of humans, angels, and vampires to get her attention.

Okay, one more! Here’s a tidbit from MORRIGAN’S BLOOD by Laura Bickle…

My lips peeled back in a snarl. “I’m not leading anyone anywhere. Whatever you want from me, I’m not giving it.”

         He sighed, and it seemed that he carried the weight of ages on his shoulders. “Every incarnation says this. But every incarnation turns when she tastes blood, when her divinity is revealed to her and the goddess is unleashed.”

         “If she keeps incarnating, then she must keep dying. Assuming that this is true, it sounds like you don’t know what the hell you’re doing.”

         He jerked back, as if I’d slapped him. “That’s fair,” he whispered. “And how is it that you keep finding yourself in the same place and the same time as these ‘incarnations’?” I made air quotes around incarnations. “That makes no rational sense. You sound like a guy who gets obsessed pretty easily and gives himself permission to start stalking.”

Ready to start reading? Here’s the link: BEYOND TWILIGHT.


Tami Lund wrote this post. She’s an author, blogger, and believer in vampire happily ever afters. You should check out her other books too: https://tamilund.com/

Christmas in July II

MERRY CHRISTMAS IN JULY Week 2 – 7/13 thru 7/19!





It’s time to cool off, cuddle up, and



(Be sure to check the price before you click!)

I’m taking a stand. The buck stops here – and you better believe I mean every single one of those frikkin’ prancin’ Reindeer.

No more Second Fiddle for me.

My name is Cailleach Bheur and I’m here to screw with your holidays.

And you can blow that right out the toe of your stinkin’ stocking for all I care!

FREE! July 13 thru 17!


Amazon UK

Amazon AU

Amazon CA

Part of the Kindle Unlimited Library

Space pirates? Here? Solstice Week should be a time to celebrate. Not a time to chase a tomb raiding tigershifter through a cold alien swamp.


Part of the Kindle Unlimited Library

Can a wounded, possessive bear and a stubborn, holiday-hating reindeer heal their busted hearts just in time to make some mistletoe magic that will last forever?


Part of the Kindle Unlimited Library

A bear shifter who found a fresh start in life…

A woman seeking a safe haven for her bear shifter son…

And a little sprinkle of holiday magic to create some lasting joy.


Part of the Kindle Unlimited Library

When omega wolf Ana Lyall walked away from her forbidden human soulmate, it shattered her heart. But wolf shifters and humans can’t mix, and she won’t have Mason’s blood on her hands. Nothing can entice her back to him-unless some wild Christmas magic can make their season bright after all.





Google Play



And we got a God in the mix!

But when business and pleasure collide with disastrous results,

I have to prove to her that she means more to me than my bottom line

I have until Christmas Eve to make her mine

Treat yourself to a dose of Christmas spirit this holiday season!


Part of the Kindle Unlimited Library

With his thousand pound secret out in the open, will Madison be able to see past all that fur and into his heart? With the magic of Christmas on his side, Mack will do whatever it takes to claim his fated mate.


Part of the Kindle Unlimited Library

The attraction between the rival diner owners becomes irresistible as they near the holiday festivities. But Faith’s dreams of sleigh rides through the snow and mistletoe kisses are dashed when Tommy’s ex slithers back into town. Can Tommy forget his past wounds before he ruins his chance to make Faith his mate?


Part of the Kindle Unlimited Library

Lilly deserves everything, including a tree in a box and a creepy stranger dressed in a red suit.

She’s my everything, she’s my fated mate.


Part of the Kindle Unlimited Library

Jack Frost, yes, that Jack Frost, missed his chance with Ginger when they were teenagers… But she’s returned to Holly Valley, and he’s determined to win her back. Can a cocky Winter Elf, a salty old wizard, and a food-motivated reindeer restore Ginger’s beliefs in Christmas and in love?

FREE!! July 13 thru 17!! Then 99¢!


Part of the Kindle Unlimited Library

And, there are witches, too.

If you like witches with lots of romance, you will like this book.





Be sure to check the price before you click!

These prices are good from 7/13 thru 7/19.

Tempting Teaser

Have you read the first book in the Bryant Brothers series yet? (RACING HOME) Better get on it – book 2, To Love & Protect, is now up for pre-order, and releases on July 28!

What’s that, you say? You’d like a teaser from book 2? Well, as a matter of a fact, guess what I have for you today!


Philip Bryant, second born son to a fine, upstanding family, is anything but.

He wants to amend his ways, though. Operate on the right side of the law. Be a positive, contributing member of society.

A buddy who works for a government agency gives him the perfect opportunity to change his stripes. But instead of doing what he was told to do, he kidnaps the witness to an attempted murder.

The witness’s name is Maecie McIntosh. She’s a hairstylist with a whole lot of opinions, and she isn’t afraid to put him in his place. And the more time he spends with her, the less he wants to let her go. Can kidnappers develop Stockholm Syndrome?

Or is this what true love feels like?

Bryant Brothers series

Each book has its own happily ever after, however it is recommended they be read in the following order:

Racing Home

To Love & Protect

The Right Tool

Picture This

Chapter One

“You look way more rumpled than usual,” Richard Gerrard commented as Philip slid into the booth across from him at the diner in downtown Detroit where they almost always met to talk business.

Philip glanced down at his V-neck sweater and white T-shirt. Although he hadn’t taken the time to trim his beard this morning, he didn’t think it looked scruffy, and his clothes weren’t overly wrinkled, so Richard must have noticed the bags under his eyes.

“You know what I do for a living,” Philip replied, stifling a yawn and waving at the server who was holding a coffee carafe in her hand, systematically refilling customers’ cups. “Unfortunately, most of my clientele don’t keep bankers’ hours.”

“Philip Bryant,” his buddy drawled, “serving and protecting the bad guys since 2016.”

The young server, wearing jeans and a green T-shirt with the name of the diner screen printed over her left breast, stepped up to their table and flipped over the ceramic mug that had already been placed in front of Philip’s seat. “Sugar and creamer’s right there,” she said, pointing at the table. “I’ll take your order in a minute.”

She left, and Philip grimaced. “Thanks for making it sound exactly as shady as it is.”

He grabbed the menu, even though he almost always ordered off the specials board. Today he had a choice of country eggs benedict, strawberry pancakes, or Detroit style corned beef hash. He had no idea what made it Detroit style, but he loved a good corned beef hash, so he tucked the menu behind the napkin dispenser and doctored his coffee while Richard contemplated his options.

The server returned, took their orders, and hurried away again.

Richard glanced around the restaurant. Philip had already scoped out the place before sliding into his seat, so he knew there were three tables of elderly couples, a few suits sipping coffee while working on their laptops, and a twenty-something couple who looked as if they hadn’t gone to bed in at least thirty-six hours.

“Hey, at least you’re making bank.”

Philip sighed. “I should try taking legit jobs once in a while. Working as contract security for people who don’t necessarily operate on the right side of the law definitely more than pays the bills, but it feels like my soul is shriveling up and dying.”

Richard snorted and took a hit of coffee. “You and me, we should have switched lives years ago. You’re the do-gooder who’s rolling in dough because you babysit people who are very likely—no, they are criminals. And I’m the poor shmuck who can’t catch a break, working for the man and making peanuts.”

“Not all my clients are criminals,” Philip argued, which he knew damn well was for his own benefit, not Richard’s. His buddy seemingly had no problem with some of Philip’s clients’ highly questionable ethics and morals.

Shaking his head, Richard said, “And here I’m protecting the world from illegal arms deals and terrorists and I can barely pay my mortgage.”

“That’s because you spend too damn much time at the casino and betting on your favorite football team. If you change nothing else but stopped buying lottery tickets every week, there’s your mortgage payment.”

Richard waved off his suggestion and then leaned back so that the server could place their plates on the table. While he squirted ketchup on his hash browns, he said, “I should be able to do both. You’re able to do both.”

Philip hated it when Richard was in this mood. It wasn’t a damn competition.

“I don’t play the lottery,” Philip said. Which Richard already knew. This wasn’t a new topic of conversation.

“But you could.”

Yeah, he could do a lot of things. “It’s a choice. One you could make, too, you know. And if you feel like you can’t, then maybe you need to get some help so you can.”

Richard dredged a triangular slice of buttered toast through runny egg yolk and crammed it into his mouth. “Stop. You sound like my ex when you talk like that.”

Philip sighed. He was pretty sure Richard had a gambling addiction, and like most addicts, he refused to see what was so obvious to everyone around him. And got defensive when someone suggested he needed help.

Richard’s ex, like Philip and Richard, had been a marine. She was also an exceedingly tolerant woman, but even she had gotten sick of begging him to seek help, which inevitably led to screaming arguments, and she’d divorced him two years ago.

After another scan of the restaurant, Richard said, “Maybe I can help with that soul of yours. I have a job for you if you’re interested.”

 Richard worked for the federal government, specifically for the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives, better known as ATF. Richard and Philip met while they were both in the Marine Corps, and they’d become fast friends. They both got out at about the same time, and when Richard was accepted as an ATF agent, Philip had considered going that route too. Until a contract job landed in his lap and introduced him to the lucrative world of “securities.”

Maybe this was a sign. While technically Philip had not broken the law himself, he certainly had plenty of dirt on some pretty grimy people, and Richard knew it. Richard also knew Philip was loyal, if to the wrong people.

But if his friend was offering him contract employment with the ATF, that must mean Philip had a shot at going legit.

He rested his forearms on the table and tried not to look too excited. “I’m listening.”

“Frank Charles. Does that name sound familiar?”

“Pyrotechnics. Isn’t he the guy in charge of the Detroit fireworks?”

Richard nodded. “We’ve been watching him for a while now.”

“How come?”

“We believe he’s using his pyrotechnics distribution license to illegally sell explosives to terrorist groups.”

Philip let out a low whistle. Frank Charles, by all appearances, had been an upstanding member of the Detroit community for decades. His fireworks displays were arguably the best in the country, and he was well-known for giving back to the residents of the city that embraced the colorful and spectacular way he lit up the sky over the riverfront each summer.

Unfortunately, Philip knew from firsthand experience that the ones who put on the most positive public image were often the most corrupt.

He rubbed his hand over his face. “What do you need me to do?”

Hey, at least this one was clear-cut: he was definitely working for the good guys.


They are Oil and Water

Camila knew damn well that Tommy wanted to sleep with her. He flirted in that raunchy way of overconfident men everywhere, clearly used to women falling all over themselves for the opportunity to share Mr. Egomaniac’s bed for a night. She dealt with guys like him every shift she worked at the bar.

No, thank you.

To be fair, though, bits of a polite, funny guy peeked through here and there. Enough to stir Camila’s interest. If there was one thing she was a sucker for, it was a guy who could make her laugh. Bonus that he was made of solid muscle and looked like sex on a stick.

But she wasn’t interested in some guy who traveled all the time, who couldn’t even be bothered to unpack his bag when he got home after his latest tour. A guy who probably had a motocross fan club that called themselves Tommy’s Tinas or some other stupid name.

After they returned to the house and helped unpack groceries, Deanna shooed them all upstairs, insisting they change into their swimsuits and hang out at the pool for the rest of the day. It was exactly what Camila had been hoping for when her sister said she could stay for the week, except she hadn’t counted on Tommy’s presence as part of the relax-and-take-her-mind-off-her-stalker agenda.

While she donned her royal-blue bikini, she did a quick Google search. According to several articles she skimmed, Tommy was one of the best racers in the industry and had been for quite a few years. Guess that made him a celebrity.

She also couldn’t help pausing on the various pics of him with this or that woman’s body twisted around his like Saran Wrap. In every one of them, he wore a cat-got-the-canary grin. Cocky. Sure of himself. And of what was about to happen with that clinging woman on his arm.

Ugh. Stop thinking about him.

After twisting her braid into a bun and securing it with a hair clip, she hurried downstairs. She could hear the sounds of splashing and playful shrieks that indicated someone had already dived into the undoubtedly cool and refreshing pool. She was more than ready to join them.

Tommy stood on the deck, next to the sliding glass door, a copper mug in each hand, like he was waiting for her. He wore a pair of aviator shades, a baseball cap over his messy, almost- ready-for-a-cut hair, and blue and white swim trunks resting low on his hips, showing off muscles from his neck all the way down to the elastic waist of those shorts. Oh yeah, and don’t forget the legs.

Jesus, he should be a model.

She mentally picked her jaw up off the floor and shook herself. She did not need this man to know she found him attractive.

Just attractive? Yeah right, I’m practically drooling.

His smile crawled across his face in slow motion, lighting him up and drawing her attention away from the muscles to the beauty that she’d swear was descended from a Greek god. Or maybe Roman. Whichever ones were the more gorgeous.

He offered her one of the mugs and said, “I can think of a thousand compliments to give you right now and every single one could be construed as hitting on you. Which they would be, for the record. So is it corny if I just say you’re beautiful?”

She took a swallow of her drink. “Not corny. But still sounds like you’re hitting on me.”

RELEASES JUNE 30 – Keep reading HERE

LOVE ME ALWAYS Charity Anthology Cover Reveal

Love Me Always Anthology: A Charity Romance Limited Collection

It’s all in the name of love…

Get lost in more than twenty African American romances filled with passion, desire, and love. This collection includes short reads ranging from sweet to sensual, to dark and addicting.

These dirty alphas and sassy heroines will keep you up until long past your bedtime. Believe us, there is something for everyone in this anthology.

Don’t delay. This collection of tales will only be available for a short time.

One-click now!

Note: This collection contains material for mature readers (18+ and older) only.

The publisher’s proceeds from Love Me Always will be donated in their entirety to the NAACP Legal Defense Fund. Please note that Love Me Always is not affiliated with or endorsed by the NAACP.

Please consider donating directly to the NAACP Legal Defence Fund

~ Contributing Authors ~
Peyton Banks, LeeSha McCoy, Yolanda Olson, Faith Ryan, Ally Vance, Emery LeeAnn, Theresa Hodge, L. Loren, E.S. McMillan, Sade Rena, Abigail Davies, Ja’Nese Dixon, Tami Lund, Barb Shuler, Marie Long, ML Preston, Ava Mallory, Lyric Black, Gwen Knight, Reina Torres, Tina Glasneck, Amanda Faye, Cara North, Meka James, A.C. Nixon, Kim Loraine, Amabel Daniels

Creative Credits:

CJC Photography www.cjc-photography.com

Model: Kevin T.

Cover design by Dar Albert from Wicked Smart Designs

Desperate for Another Chapter?


Taming the Dragon Book 5

Four years ago, Sofia had an affair with a gargoyle. The next morning, he disappeared—leaving her with an infant.

Now he’s back, and Sofia is afraid he wants to claim the child she’s been raising as her own.

Griffin isn’t back because he wants the child. What Sofia doesn’t know is that the kid isn’t even his. He’s back because his boss told him to protect Sofia and the baby. A task he doesn’t think he’s capable of doing.

Unfortunately, the more time he spends with Sofia and her adopted daughter Penelope, the less he wants to leave.

And the more danger he’s putting them in.

Taming the Dragon series

Each book has its own happily ever after; however, it is recommended they be read in the following order:

Dragon His Heels

Hungry Like a Dragon

Dragon in Denial

Bewitching the Dragon

Let Go My Gargoyle

Did you check out chapter one in my last post? Here it is, if you want to read it first: LET GO MY GARGOYLE CHAPTER ONE

Now, ready for chapter two? If you love it, don’t worry, the book releases on June 2nd. Only six short days away!!

Chapter Two

The first thing Sofia Glycon did after dropping her drinks and screaming at Griffin was lock herself in the ladies’ room and call Clarice, her babysitter for the evening. She’d needed reassurance that Penelope was all right.

That the gargoyle who’d just disrupted her evening—and her life, again—hadn’t already stopped by and taken her baby girl from her.

Once Clarice assured her that no one had been to the house and there was no suspicious activity and that she would call if for some reason an incredibly attractive guy with a northern accent showed up, Sofia had forced herself to stay at the bar and finish out her shift.

She hadn’t had that much excitement in her life since the night she’d spent with Griffin the Disappearing Gargoyle. She supposed that when she wasn’t feeling resentful or angry—which wasn’t often—Sofia could admit that particular night had been pretty remarkable.

But spectacular orgasms came with a price. Always.

Damn, she had honestly thought she’d never see the guy again. Four years ago, he’d told her he was from Canada. A place called New Brunswick. And when she woke up the next morning and he was gone, leaving behind his very precious three-month-old cargo and no note, she’d presumed he’d hightailed it back north to his homeland. Considering what he left behind, she’d assumed he never planned to return.

Yet here he was. And in the bar where she worked as a waitress. Seriously? What were the odds? Unless, of course, he’d deliberately looked her up. Certainly possible, but why wait four years to do it?

Because by this point, she’d built up enough resentment, enough rage that she would never forgive the guy for what he did.

“You all right, cher?” Mitch, the bar’s owner, asked as he pushed through the swinging doors that led into the kitchen and storage area.

“Yeah. I’ll pay for all that glassware and those drinks I dropped.” She pulled a wad of tip money out of her apron.

Mitch waved away her offer. “Accidents happen. What caught you so off guard, anyway?”

She swallowed thickly. The story she’d given everyone had not involved her sleeping with a gargoyle and him leaving her high and dry the next morning. In fact, she’d never once mentioned to anyone that she had any involvement with gargoyles at all.

“I tripped. Somebody’s foot was sticking out.”

Mitch nodded. “That explains.”


He lifted an envelope that had been lying next to the cash register. “This money and the note, stating it was to cover the drinks you dropped.”

She hurried over and snatched the envelope, ignored the bills, and pulled out the folded piece of paper. She didn’t even need to open it and read it; she knew it was from Griffin. It faintly bore his scent, but more than that, she could feel his magic on the note.

Please accept my humble apologies for startling your waitress. This should more than cover the expenses incurred. Consider giving her whatever is left over as a tip. Thank you. G

“I don’t want any of it. If there’s any left over,” she hastily added.

“Why not? There’s enough in there to double the tips you made tonight.”

It was tempting. She could definitely use the money. Toddlers were expensive. But— “No. Keep it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She almost always worked weekends because first, there were far more tips to be made than on a random Tuesday afternoon, and second, it was easier to secure a babysitter than during the week when everyone else worked too.

After bidding her boss good night, Sofia shivered as she stepped out into the cooling night air. It was September, and New Orleans didn’t usually see relief from the oppressive heat until October, at least. Yet in the last few hours the temperature had dropped into the sixties, which was chilly for a girl wearing shorts and a thin T-shirt and who had been raised in the Deep South. Even if she was a dragon.

She lived only a few blocks from Mitch’s Place, so she always walked to and from work, which meant sometimes she was striding down the street alone at two in the morning. Twice since she started working there she’d encountered some asshole human who decided she was a helpless girl. She’d simply growled and let steam escape from her nostrils, and each time, the guy had hightailed it out of there like his pants were on fire. Which they would have been had he attempted to lay a hand on her.

Helpless girl she most certainly was not.

Angry? Yeah, she was definitely angry. Especially when she reached the path leading to her front door and there was a gargoyle perched on the stoop. Stopping on the sidewalk, she snapped, “I thought I told you to get the hell out of here.”

He rose to his feet, and Sofia cursed herself for enjoying the fluid motion of his movements. Everything the guy had done four years ago had been smooth and velvety and gentle and seemingly caring. Until he left—without his infant daughter.

Now, she hated his stylish light brown hair, his thick stubble, those chocolaty-brown eyes, and she especially hated his soft, kissable lips. Oh yeah, and those abs. She hated his abs. And his biceps. And his muscular thighs. And…she hated everything about him.

Except his baby girl. Oh gods, was he really here to take her back? Because he sure as hell hadn’t wanted the child four years ago, and Sofia had become attached—for crying out loud, little Penelope called her Mommy—and she was not about to let this guy have her.

No matter what.

“You did,” he acknowledged, stalking toward her in the same way that had seduced her the first time they met. Except last time there had been a tiny infant snuggled in his big, strong arms. “But I can’t.”

“Why not? Your wings broken?” She crossed her arms and thrust a hip, frowning, deliberately trying to send him go away vibes.

“No, but I can’t leave all the same.”

Well, if that wasn’t cryptic as all get out…

The front door opened and Clarice, the young human woman who babysat for her most weekends, stepped onto the tiny porch with her backpack slung over one shoulder. She was a med student who wanted to go into pediatrics, and when she wasn’t doing rotations, she was more than happy to spend her weekends babysitting and studying.

Clarice glanced at Griffin, and her eyes flared in the same way probably every woman who saw him for the first time did. “Erm, hi.” She dragged her gaze away from his chest and waved at Sofia. “Is this the hot guy with the northern accent?”

Sofia was certain her face was turning seventeen shades of red as she refused to look in Griffin’s direction. “This is the guy I was worried would show up, yes.”

“Did you tell her I was hot, or did she deduce that on her own?” Griffin wanted to know.

Sofia ignored him. After a pause in the conversation that stretched into uncomfortable territory, Clarice said, “Well, um, Penelope’s been out since eight. She ate all her vegetables, and I gave her a bath and took her for a walk before bedtime since it was so nice out today.”

It was their usual routine. Clarice rattled off Penelope’s evening while Sofia dipped into her tips for payment. Except Griffin was also here tonight, and he had his wallet in his hand, opening the flap.

“What are you doing?” Sofia demanded.

“I take it this is the babysitter?” he asked, nodding at Clarice.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Clarice responded.

“So how much do I owe you?”

She gave him a puzzled look. Sofia didn’t blame the poor girl. For one thing, Sofia had never brought a man home after her shift at the bar, and, if she had, he probably wouldn’t be offering to pay the babysitter. Hell, few people even knew she was raising a toddler. Sofia kept a low profile.

“You are not paying my babysitter.” She strode up the walk and thrust cash into Clarice’s hand.

Clarice glanced at Griffin again and then said, “I’ll be back tomorrow at four.”

“You’re working again tomorrow?” Griffin said, looking to Sofia for an answer.

 “Thanks, Clarice. Have a good night.”

The babysitter skirted around them and headed toward her car.

“I can’t decide if I should go with you to work or stay here and take care of the child.”

Sofia stared at Griffin as if he’d just turned into a dragon, dropped to one knee, and declared them fated mates. “Excuse me?”

“I said—”

“I heard you. I just don’t understand you.”

He frowned. “Seems pretty self-explanatory. Either I go with you or—”

She slashed her hand through the air, cutting him off. “You aren’t doing anything at all that has to do with me or Penelope. All you are doing is leaving. Now.”

“You kept her name.”

“Of course I did. My world was flipped on its side plenty enough with an infant abandoned on my bedroom floor without me trying to come up with a new name for the poor kid.”

He winced like she’d slapped him, which admittedly gave her a tiny bit of self-satisfaction.

“I probably could have handled that whole situation a little better.”

Probably?” Was this man serious? Wait, it didn’t matter. She did not need to spend a single second longer thinking about him or what he did to her. With her nose in the air, she deliberately skirted around him and headed into the house, slamming the door and flipping the deadbolt.

A scant moment later, the lock twisted of its own accord, the door opened again, and Griffin stepped inside.

Sofia sighed. Gargoyles and their annoying magic. Penelope was starting to show signs of being able to create magic, although so far, she’d not experienced any sort of shifting capabilities. Sofia had no idea if that was normal, since she knew precious little about gargoyles. All she knew was that they were great in bed and they left you with their unwanted offspring when they were done.

“I want to see her,” Griffin demanded. He kicked off his shoes, dropped his bag by the front door, and moved deeper into the house.

Bringing an overnight bag was damned presumptuous of the man.

“Why now? Why are you back, four years later?”

He dragged his hand through his thick hair, setting it to standing on end. He looked like he had after their first round of rather energetic sex. Incredibly hot. Hot enough that she’d dived in for round two.

And three.


“I should probably explain a few things to you,” he said, taking in her tiny abode and probably finding it lacking. Well, too bad; it was hard to survive when one was ostracized from one’s colony and unexpectedly left to raise a helpless child, alone.

Sofia decided to go with honesty. Maybe it would convince him to leave. “You know, if you’d shown up six months later, maybe even up to a year, I would have been willing to hear you out. But that child has been fatherless for four years now, and I am not interested in rocking her world just because you suddenly decided to man up. You should never have left her, and as far as I’m concerned, you have no rights to her whatsoever any longer.”

He raked his hand through his hair again. She really wished he’d stop doing that.

“One thing I should have told you back then was that she isn’t mine.”

…ooooh, keep reading on June 2nd: LET GO MY GARGOYLE

Tami Lund drinks wine and writes books, often at the same time. She’s multi-talented like that. Check out her website for all the books she’s written: https://tamilund.com/

First Chapter: Sneak Peek!

The conclusion to the Taming the Dragon series is finally here.

Okay, no it isn’t. Not quite. It’s up for pre-order, but the book doesn’t release until June 2nd, so… a few more weeks.

Almost there, though.

And if you’re a fan of the Taming the Dragon series, I’m guessing you’re chomping at the bit for this one, since the last book (Bewitching the Dragon) released last September!

Usually I can write books a lot faster than this. I mean, aside from the novellas I included in two box sets (the Dark Moon Falls box sets – second one just released last week!), I haven’t released a book in eight months. And it will be nine by the time Let Go My Gargoyle releases (barely). Shoot, last year I released a book almost every month.

Maybe that’s why this one took so long. I think I overtaxed myself. I was so busy letting everybody know about those books, I wasn’t writing new ones. Well, I was trying – I wrote and rewrote this particular book four different times. I made it to 20,000 words twice before scraping what I’d written. That’s half a book! Heck, the two novellas in the Dark Moon Falls sets are both only 25,000 words. The final version of Let Go My Gargoyled ended up at 45,000 words, but really, it’s double that in effort.

And you know what? I’m pleased. I’m happy with this final version. It’s completely different from where I started. The hero and heroine are entirely different characters, even. In two of the four versions, Argyle was the main character. In another, Oliver was. And ultimately, I went with two characters you haven’t met yet, however, they are both very much (surprisingly!) entwined with the overarching storyline that’s been brewing since book 1 (Dragon His Heels).

Anyway, I hope you’ll give it a read. I have a really hard time finishing series, which was another contributing factor to how long it took to type the words “The End” on this book. Because it really is the end.

OR is it…? (Because Argyle and Oliver still need their happy ever afters, and now I’m thinking maybe I need a spinoff Taming the Gargoyle series. Hmm….)

Okay, enough of that! Let’s give you what the headline promised: A sneak peek at Let Go My Gargoyle, before it’s released to the general public. So here you go. Enjoy!!


Taming the Dragon Book 5

by Tami Lund

gargoyle draft FINAL

Four years ago, Sofia had an affair with a gargoyle. The next morning, he disappeared—leaving her with an infant.

Now he’s back, and Sofia is afraid he wants to claim the child she’s been raising as her own.

Griffin isn’t back because he wants the child. What Sofia doesn’t know is that the kid isn’t even his. He’s back because his boss told him to protect Sofia and the baby. A task he doesn’t think he’s capable of doing.

Unfortunately, the more time he spends with Sofia and her adopted daughter Penelope, the less he wants to leave.

And the more danger he’s putting them in.

Taming the Dragon series

Each book has its own happily ever after; however, it is recommended they be read in the following order:

Dragon His Heels

Hungry Like a Dragon

Dragon in Denial

Bewitching the Dragon

Let Go My Gargoyle


Chapter One

Why did the most prestigious of all gargoyle brethren have to be located in New Orleans, of all places?

“It’s a big town,” Griffin told himself as he strolled along the sidewalk, heading toward the City of the Dead, where he was supposed to meet his new boss, Oliver, at dusk. He glanced over his shoulder, his senses on high alert, but so far, he hadn’t come across any dragons.

Not that they weren’t here. In fact, this city was crawling with them. Or so it had seemed the last time he’d visited.

“I can’t believe I’m moving here,” he muttered, kicking at a clump of moss growing between two broken chunks of concrete.

A golden opportunity to join the elitist of the elite had been dropped into his lap, and all he could do was worry about running into someone from his past.

He paused next to a whitewashed stone pillar marking the entrance to the cemetery that was about to become his home for, oh, the rest of eternity.

Were these guys really so diehard that they lived as stone statues except when they were working assignments? Because Griffin would freely admit that he’d choose to sleep in a warm, comfy bed rather than perched atop a gravesite any day of the week.

Why had Oliver picked him of all the gargoyles all over the world? It was certainly the burning question of the night. And what happened if he didn’t succeed? This position was a life sentence. Did that mean Griffin would get to keep trying, again and again, until he got it right? For all of eternity?

Did that mean he’d technically never fail, ever again?

The sun dipped below the horizon and shadows stretched across the sidewalk, reaching like long, dark fingers across the aboveground burial sites.

Creepy AF.

Shaking off the willies and gripping the small duffle that contained all of his worldly possessions, Griffin threw back his shoulders and stepped into the cemetery just as the sound of footsteps hurrying down the path echoed in the dim remnants of daylight. He slipped to the side, ducking behind a massive oak tree draped with Spanish moss.

A human man strode past, heading toward the wrought iron gate, pulling it closed and threading the iron chain through the grates before snapping the lock and heading down the sidewalk, his footsteps gradually fading into nothingness.

Not that a locked gate mattered to a gargoyle. If his magic didn’t work to free him, he could, with relative ease, scale the wrought iron barrier. Or, better yet, shift into his leathery, winged body and simply fly over to the other side.

But, of course, the locks weren’t for him. That guy didn’t even know Griffin existed, at least outside of his stone form. Those locks kept the humans out after dark, which allowed the resident gargoyles to shift out of their stone forms and go about their days…er, nights.

“Okay, might as well get the initial meeting over with.” Even though he’d much rather head down to the quarter, have a drink, or twelve, and find a lovely lady to flirt with for the evening.

As long as the quarter was dragon free, at any rate. Which it probably wasn’t, so scratch that idea.

He strolled along the moss-covered path, meandering, not really trying very hard to find his new boss. He was reasonably confident the guy would find him eventually. Hell, Oliver had found him all the way up in Canada, so he shouldn’t have too much difficulty here on his home turf.

The air shifted, indicating magic was being used, and Griffin bristled.

But it was just another gargoyle. The man who transformed from a statue to tanned, surfer-looking dude and then hopped nimbly down to the sidewalk in front of him wasn’t just another gargoyle, no matter how laidback he appeared in his human form.

“Oliver.” Griffin nodded once and did not offer his hand to shake, as was the custom for gargoyles.

His new boss nodded in return. “You’ve arrived.”

“You didn’t expect me to?”

“Oh, I knew you’d come eventually. But yes, I was concerned that you might get…distracted on your way to town.”

Griffin lifted one shoulder, let it drop again. “I did delay, actually. I could have arrived three days ago. But I made a pitstop in Nashville and partied like it was 1999.”

One eyebrow lifted, but otherwise Oliver showed no emotion.

“So anyway, I’m here now.”

“I see that.”

Griffin stuffed his free hand into the front pocket of his jeans, even though he was probably supposed to stand at attention or something. Honestly, he didn’t know. He figured Oliver would put him through some sort of training regimen before he started helping to save the world. Or so he’d heard that was what Oliver’s gargoyles did.

“Come,” his new boss said, and he strode toward the closed gate.

Griffin hurried after him. “Where are we going?” That was it? That was his greeting? There wasn’t a whole lot of information in that greeting. In fact, there was none. Where was Griffin sleeping tonight? What was the training plan? Where were the other gargoyles he would be working with?

At the closed gate, Oliver reached through the slates and wrapped his hand around the lock. A moment later, the chain it was attached to slithered free and Oliver pushed the barred doors open. At his nod, Griffin stepped through, onto the sidewalk, and then Oliver replaced the lock and chain.

Without speaking, he began striding down the path running along the front of the cemetery. Griffin’s long, lean legs easily kept up. “Seriously. Where are we going?”

Griffin wasn’t a fan of surprises. He had no problem with whatever undoubtedly physically and mentally challenging preparations he was going to have to go through as a new member of Oliver’s team, so long as his boss told him what he was planning to do.

This silent walking—away from their home turf, by the way—was damned unnerving.

The farther they moved away from the City of the Dead, the more people they encountered, which also set Griffin on edge. There were definitely dragons here; he could sense them. He could see them. He could smell them. They didn’t smell bad—most of them, at any rate—but it was certainly distinct. They always seemed to have the faint scent of a campfire clinging to their skin.

He glanced around, checking out each face in turn, searching for one in particular—relieved each time he did not recognize the person who crossed his path. It wasn’t even Mardi Gras and this place was crowded with revelers. Griffin made a mental note to use his vacation time to get out of town during the Fat Tuesday celebrations.

Wait. He did get vacation time, right?

Everything he knew about this new gig could be summed up in a few sentences. It was a lifetime responsibility. Once someone joined Oliver’s brethren, they did not leave. There was no quitting, no retirement plan. The only other bit of information he knew was that relationships were strictly forbidden. No falling in love, no mating, no bearing offspring.

No problem.

That might have been the reason Griffin actually did show up today—well, and the fact that Oliver would have come after him at some point and demanded his presence. But that whole no falling in love, no bearing offspring rule held a lot of appeal for a guy like Griffin.

At the next block, Oliver hung a left and began walking away from the crowds, and Griffin let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Oliver finally stopped in front of a nondescript brick building with a fenced in patio that was bustling, probably because it was September and seventy degrees instead of ninety outside.

The place also reeked of dragons.

“Seriously?” Griffin burst out. “We’re going to a bar? And why this one?”

Oliver canted his head. “You seemed like you were getting nervous back there, where it was more crowded.”

It wasn’t the crowds, per se—okay, yeah, he wasn’t a fan of crowds in general—it was the chance of running into a dragon he knew. Rather, had made an acquaintance once, four years ago. But he’d not left a positive impression, and he’d really rather not have to face this particular dragon ever again.

“Why are we going to a bar anyway?” Griffin repeated.

Without answering, Oliver reached for the door and held it open. With a resigned sigh, Griffin stepped into the dim interior.

It was a small place, clean and simple. Miniature lights hung above the bar, and there were huge, framed shots from various New Orleans Saints football games on the exposed brick walls. Double doors leading out to the patio were wide open, giving him a glimpse of mismatched outdoor furniture, most of which was occupied by…dragons.

Everywhere he turned, there were dragons. Hell, there wasn’t even a witch or a human in the vicinity. No, wait, there was one. A witch, bellied up to the bar, putting back shots like she was in a competition with the dragon next to her.

“What is this, the dragons’ version of Cheers?” he muttered. He was still carrying his duffle, too, which made him even more self-conscious. Who the heck carried an overnight bag into a bar? He hunched his shoulder, as if that would somehow make him invisible.

It’s a big city, Griffin. The chances of running into one particular dragon

Oliver snickered and clapped him on the back. “Outside or the bar?”

“Neither,” was what he wanted to say. Instead, he shrugged.

“Outside it is.” Oliver headed that way. “Might as well take advantage of the less than 100 percent humidity while we can.”

They stepped out onto the patio, and several dragons eyed them like they didn’t belong. Which they didn’t, not that Oliver seemed to notice. Or maybe he didn’t care. There wasn’t frostiness in those gazes, simply…curiosity.

Dragons and gargoyles didn’t often interact. They didn’t have a need to. Gargoyles existed to protect others, and there were few dragons who could not take care of themselves. Breathing fire was a handy trait to possess.

He followed Oliver to a brick firepit built into the center of the space—seriously? Did it even get cold enough in this town to warrant a fire?—and they claimed the remaining two unoccupied chairs.

A moment later, a waitress hurried through the door, balancing a tray full of drinks on one hand. She had bronze skin and dark hair that was piled on top of her head in a messy bun. Her eyes were wide, almond-shaped, and surrounded by thick lashes. Her mouth was coated with shiny gloss. She wore a black T-shirt with the bar’s logo in gold stamped over her right breast, and jean shorts under a black apron. Her shapely legs went on for miles.

She was, in a word, gorgeous.

Griffin slouched in his seat and wished it were cold so that he were wearing a jacket and could attempt to hide in the collar. Because, son of a bitch, the very dragon he’d intended to avoid was about to ask him for his drink order.

“How about we go somewhere else?” he suggested to Oliver, who ignored him and lifted his hand to draw the server’s attention.

She nodded at him, and Griffin knew the second she realized he wasn’t a dragon, because her nostrils flared and her eyes widened. Then her attention shifted to the guy sitting next to Oliver.

To him.

Her mouth fell open and the tray slipped from its perch atop her palm and nine different alcoholic concoctions crashed to the cement.

The dragons closest to her jumped out of the way to avoid being hit by flying glass and liquid; a chorus of groans went up all around them.

Ignoring the mess at her feet, she stabbed her finger in Griffin’s direction and shouted, “You! Get the hell out of this bar. In fact, get the hell out of this city. No, the state. Get out! Now!” Her voice rose with each word.

Griffin scrambled to his feet and scooped up the duffle he’d dropped next to his chair. Oliver stood, and they both backed toward the gate that would deposit them out onto the sidewalk.

“Go!” she screamed.

Griffin practically fell over the swinging gate in his haste to get out of the vicinity before she started breathing fire at him.

Once they were well off premises, Oliver clapped him on the shoulder.

“I see you’ve already met your first assignment.”

Keep reading… well, on June 2nd! >>>> Let Go My Gargoyle

Tami Lund Headshot 2014


Tami Lund writes contemporary and paranormal romance and clearly has a love of dragons. And gargoyles. Oh, and wine. Check out the rest of her books here: https://tamilund.com/