Emergency landing. Uncharted planet. Erotic captivity of epic proportions. Right when Captain Alec Hamlin thinks it can’t get any crazier, his team is sold to their captors’ mighty sovereign. King Zercy of the Kríe. Ruler of the planet’s most formidable species. Man, is he imposing. So regal and larger than life. And way too savagely handsome for Alec’s liking. From the first moment he laid eyes on him, he knew the Kríe was trouble, knew he needed to steer clear of him at all costs. But when Zercy chooses Alec to be his personal pet, all plans to dodge the male fall by the wayside. Alec is forced to spend each evening in the alluring king’s company, each night bound to the seductive king’s bed. Wholly at his mercy. Utterly defenseless, in his own mind and most especially his restless body. His struggle is real. Because the more Alec gets to know Zercy, the more he realizes two things. The Kríe king is damaged—unstable, not right, making him unpredictable and highly dangerous. But he is also innately kind beneath the raging storm that torments him. Kind and genuine, with a sad but beautiful soul. Something Alec fights with all he is, not to acknowledge. He can’t fall for Zercy. Zercy is the enemy. The captor of both Alec and his team. Which means Alec needs to get them out of there, before it’s too late. Before emotions overthrow logic and take control of the wheel. If only his body didn’t crave Zercy so fiercely, and his heart didn’t want him just as badly.
With Search and Rescue due any day, and Alec’s team getting antsy, Alec is forced to make a decision. He can’t have it both ways. Is he the captain of his men, bound to obligation, or is he a man in love with a Kríe?
Warning: Contains explicitly scorching gay sex with exotic and shamelessly kinky males of otherworldly descent.
I lovedKríe Captivity (The Nira Chronicles Book 1) and seriously couldn't wait to dive back into this sci-fi/fantasy-romanceseries. This colourful and captivating world has held my attention throughout and really hope there is more to come from this amazing world. Book two, Zercy, follows on from Kríe Captivity. To fully immerse yourself in the planet Nira experience, I highly recommend you read book one first. In book one we saw Captain Alec Hamlin and his team of scientists being held captive then sold on planet Nira to King Zercy.
This read gives us so much more than in book one, with the main part of this story being about Alec’s relationship with Zercy. But don't just think that, that is all of it because its so much more. Each character is so different, well-developed and facing situations that make them do things they never imagined in there wildest dreams. They have such a deep bond and so much respect for each other always putting each other first and doing what is right for the team.
We find out so much more about the Kríe race and planet Nira and that all is not what it seems, that the Kríe are not as cruel and ruthless as they seem. While we are delving into this vibrant world you can't but fall in love, the build up of angst and deeply felt love that both Zercy and Alex feel gives us a beautiful story of drama, humour and ultimately love. Alec is torn between the feelings that are building for the Kríe King and his loyalty to his team. He is their captain and feels responsible for their wellbeing, but the more he finds out the closer he becomes to Zercy.
Kora is an amazing writer who pushes boundaries that even in a Sci-fi/fantasy-romance they seem so realistic. With well written characters that kept on developing throughout and have great chemistry this truly was a five star read for me. Zercy doesn't end in a cliffhanger unlike Kríe Captivity, it's has a very solid and beautiful HFN that leaves open doors to what may come and other species!! in the next books.
Does music add a whole new level of depth to the books you read? I honestly don't think I could write without music's help to inspire me. Check out the playlist of song muses I've compiled for Zercy, book 2. I've put them in order with the parts of the story they relate to. Maybe you can figure out which scenes in particular. 💜
Born and raised in the Northern Virginia, I've always loved to read, but it wasn't until my preteen years that I discovered my deep-seated love for writing. Though, with published literary teachers and play writers in the family tree, that really shouldn't have come as a surprise.
Starting with my involvement in social book forums, I then tried my hand in literary role playing. Which, in turn, led to my becoming a fervent online independent writer. Since then, I've endeavored to share with the world my impassioned stories of love, adventure and sensual wonderment, my most recent delight being that of m/m erotica.
I have recently finished the last installment of my m/m Upending Tad series, Afterglow, and will be continuing on with a handful of other projects, including the novel-length story spin-offs to the Upending Tad series for Max & Sean and Breck & Kai, on target to release as early as next year.
Proud supporter of ALSO Youth, donating a percentage of each month's sales to this incredibly worthy cause. Consider supporting our youth today, too.
Today we have the chapter reveal for DIRT by Cassia Leo! Check them out and pre-order your copy today!
Title: DIRTAuthor: Cassia LeoSeries: Evergreen SeriesRelease: January 12, 2018
About Dirt
A hard-hitting, emotional new series from New York Times bestselling author Cassia Leo.
Jack and I had everything. Then, in one brutal instant, the universe tilted on its side, discarding us into black nothingness.
Now, I have a cocky a**hole for a husband.
The only way we communicate anymore is when we’re fighting or f**king.
With nothing left to lose, I write Jack a goodbye letter and head for Portland, where I quickly meet a neighbor who helps me find a job.
My new neighbor—broody, tattooed ex-soldier Isaac Evans—is complicated. Nevertheless, we form a fast friendship, bonding over our mutual desire to create something beautiful from the wreckage of our lives.
But despite the distance between us, Jack and I are still trying to make things work—fighting and f**king dirtier than ever. And he doesn’t appreciate my new friendship with Isaac. Not one f**king bit.
I hugged Jack Jr. tightly against my breast, and he molded his soft, warm body to mine. His eyes remained closed as his tiny fingers curled around the fabric of my blouse, his rosy lips puckering as he geared up for more food.
“You sucked me dry, little fella,” I whispered, leaning in to press my nose against the downy-soft, golden hair on the top of his head. I inhaled his scent and my muscles unspooled. “But I’ll be back to feed you soon. I promise.”
Why do babies smell so damn good?
Before I got pregnant with Junior, my favorite smell was orange blossoms. As a teenager, I often got scolded by my mom for picking the flowers off the orange tree in our backyard in Portland. I’d rub the creamy petals between my fingers, bruise them with my fingernails, then sniff my hand for hours until the scent wore off.
When I was pregnant with Junior, my favorite scent became the rich aroma of the forbidden coffee I could no longer drink.
After Junior was born, and my decaf days came to a glorious end, I realized how wrong I’d been. There was absolutely no scent as sweet and soul-quieting as the smell of the top of a baby’s head. Bonus points if the baby was lying peacefully on your chest sound asleep.
“Are you ever going to put him down?”
I flicked my head sideways, startled by Jack’s clear, baritone voice.
He stood in the doorway of Junior’s nursery, the silhouette of his six-foot-three athletic body framed by the warm light in the hallway. His head was tilted to the side. He’d probably been standing there admiring us for a while. After six years together, I knew Jack’s body language and facial expressions better than I knew my own face.
I stood from the rocking chair and stole one more sniff of Junior’s head before I placed him gently on his back in the center of the crib. I adjusted the left sleeve of his pajamas, pulling it down to make sure it covered his entire chubby arm. I didn’t want to imagine him waking up cold and alone in here.
Jack appeared at my side as I switched on the video baby monitor. “He’s going to be fine,” he murmured, reaching down to stroke the soft patch of hair on Junior’s head. “In fact, he’ll probably enjoy some time alone. After all, he is just like his daddy; sometimes, we need a break from the constant attention from the ladies.”
I rolled my eyes and headed for the door. “Making jokes only makes leaving him slightly less scary, you know,” I said as we stepped into the hallway of our five-bedroom dream home in Hood River, Oregon. I couldn’t wait to fill up every one of these bedrooms with brothers and sisters for Jack Jr.
Jack chuckled as he followed closely behind me. “Less scary is an improvement,” he replied, grabbing my hand to stop me in the middle of the corridor. “You promised Junior you’d be back soon. Can you also make me a promise?”
The hallway lights made his dark hair look glaringly shiny, but I couldn’t help but notice how weary his blue eyes looked tonight. Since Junior arrived three months ago, I’d been so focused on my baby boy’s vulnerability, his scent, his beauty, I hadn’t slowed down enough to appreciate how those were the same qualities that made me fall in love with Jack.
Suddenly, my worries about leaving Junior with my mother for the evening evaporated. All I wanted to do was kiss Jack, grab hold of that dark hair and make love to him for hours. I wanted to replace the weariness in his eyes with dark hunger, or maybe a glint of mischief.
I squeezed his hand and smiled at the thought of possibly having sex with him in public tonight. We hadn’t done that in a while.
“What kind of promise?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Nope, you’re not allowed to ask. Just promise me you’ll say yes.”
My stomach vaulted at the sound of those words. They were the same words Jack spoke when he asked me to marry him. I wondered what he would ask this time.
The phrase “just promise me you’ll say yes” had become like an inside joke, our own private, unspoken promise to each other that we would always do whatever it took to stay together. The last time he had uttered this phrase, he asked me to stop taking my birth control pills. With Junior here, it was easy to trust that whatever Jack asked me for this time would turn out to be exactly what I needed.
I tilted my head back so I could look up and into his crystal-blue eyes. “Yes, I can make you a promise.”
His expression became sober. “Promise me you’ll be present tonight.” He fixed me with a piercing gaze as his large hand cupped my face. “It’s just you and me for the next three hours. Promise me.”
I smiled. “I promise. Just you and me. And I’ll even put my cell phone on vibrate.” As I said the words, a sharp finger of fear prodded my subconscious, telling me it was a bad idea to risk missing a phone call tonight.
The exhaustion in Jack’s eyes melted away as he smiled. “I can deal with that, but you have to promise me one more thing.”
“What’s that?”
His smile turned almost menacing as he looped his arm around my waist and drew me close. “Promise me you’ll lemme smash that blonde bombshell booty,” he said, landing a light swat on my ass.
I shook my head as I recalled how we often had sex in public during our first year together, in our senior year at Oregon State University, Cascades. For some reason, once we graduated and moved in together, having sex in public seemed like something we couldn’t get away with so easily. We decided public sex-hibitions — or throw downs, as we more commonly referred to them — would be reserved for special occasions like anniversaries or vacations.
Truthfully, Jack and I kicked off our relationship by having sex on the first date. He was always a very difficult man to resist. When he showed up at my apartment to pick me up that night, I couldn’t resist his suggestion that we should stay in and make paper masks of ourselves, then put them on and ask each other first date questions as if we were the other person. I had never laughed so much on any date. Ever. But when he asked — while pretending to be me — if I’d ever had sex with someone on the first date, I couldn’t help but respond with, “I’m Jack-fucking-Stratton. I’ve fucked a lot of girls on the first date. But none as gorgeous as you.”
Jack always knew how to keep things fresh and alarmingly sexy. Six years in and my body still craved him almost every second of every day.
Today was our three-year wedding anniversary. We’d only had sex twice since I gave birth to Junior three months ago, and both of those times were truly awkward.
The first time was painful. My C-section incision hadn’t fully healed yet, and even trying to have sex with him behind me was uncomfortable. The second time we tried, Jack was so afraid of hurting me, he stopped midway through. There’d been a lot of oral sex happening in this house since then.
Luckily, a few weeks had passed since our last attempt, and I had repeatedly assured him I was fully healed up now. I was certain that even if the sex did hurt a little, it would still be worth it. I couldn’t understand couples that didn’t consider sex an important part of a relationship. I never felt more complete, more present, more alive than when my body and mind were entwined with Jack’s.
I smiled as I wrapped my arms around his waist. “I think I know just the place for a proper throw down.”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “Ooh. Tell me more.”
As he leaned in to kiss me, my mother’s voice interrupted us.
“Are you two making out again?” she said, standing at the top of the stairs with her hands on her hips as she gawped at us. “Well, don’t let me stop you.”
Jack laughed and I shook my head as we moved toward her.
“We’re just trying to keep you entertained while you’re on vacation, Beth,” Jack said.
My mother cocked an eyebrow. “If I wanted to watch porn, I’d open up your laptop and have a look at your internet history.”
“Mom, don’t be gross,” I protested, trying not to laugh.
Jack smiled as he held out his elbow for my mom to grab hold as they descended the stairs in front of me. “I made a special collection of links for you. They’re in a folder labeled Tantric Geriatric. You’ll love it.”
I rolled my eyes. Jack and my mother exchanged jabs like this all day.
My mother was staying with us for a few days, so Jack and I could have some time to ourselves and get some much-needed uninterrupted sleep. She was leaving tomorrow to go back to the house where I grew up in Portland. Though she pretended as if she was desperate to get home to her Craftsman cottage in the city, and I even teased her about how she was dying to get back so she could see the handsome new neighbor she’d been going on about, I knew she was going to miss Jack’s pretend insults as much as she would miss Junior and me.
My mother practically shoved me toward the front door. “I order you to go have fun,” she said, smiling as Jack opened the door and stepped outside. “And don’t come home until you’re too drunk to walk.”
I shook my head. “Thanks, Mom. Please call if you need anything. And don’t answer the door for anyone. There’s a house that got broken into a few streets away.”
She waved off my paranoia. “Stop worrying so much. We’ll be fine. See you later, babe.”
I blew her a kiss, then I closed the door behind me.
* * *
“I have to admit, having sex on the waterfront was one of my favorite public throw downs ever,” Jack said, pulling his Tesla into the long driveway of our four-acre estate. “But do we really have to wait until our fourth anniversary to do it again?”
I tugged the silky fabric of my skirt straight as I pressed my thighs together. Though my body was still raw with the evidence of the dirty deed we’d just committed, I couldn’t wait to get Jack inside and pounce on him again. I hadn’t realized how much I missed the sensation of him moving inside me, and how good he was at making me feel beautiful.
“We can do that anytime we can snag a babysitter,” I replied as he turned the car off.
He made no move to exit the Tesla. “Well, babycakes, you’d better get ready to interview a fuck-ton of babysitters.”
I laughed. “Babycakes? That’s a new one.”
Jack rarely used the same term of endearment twice in a row. He liked to keep me guessing.
He scrunched up his nose. “Yeah, that one was kind of creepy. Now that I’ve tried it out, I think I can bury that one in the nickname graveyard.”
“Try the incinerator,” I said, reaching for the door handle.
“Duly noted,” he replied, exiting the vehicle.
Jack and I glided unhurriedly along the flagstone walkway, which was lined with sparkling pathway lights. As we made our way toward the steps leading up to the covered porch, I stopped in the middle of the path and closed my eyes as I inhaled the sweet scent of the lavender and honeysuckle I’d planted with my mom’s help.
That was when I made a wish, a corny wish, but I didn’t care.
I wished that every person could find someone they loved as much as I loved Jack. I wished every child could feel as loved as Junior was. And I wished every anniversary could be as perfect as this one.
“No… No, no, no!” Jack’s voice grew louder with each no.
They say mother’s intuition is scientifically proven to exist. I knew by the tone of Jack’s voice, without even opening my eyes, that my world would never be the same. I knew in that instant, I would regret leaving Jack Jr. tonight for the rest of my life.
Though I knew something was wrong, I wasn’t prepared for what we found.
At some point, while we were lost in our blissful celebration, the front door of our home had been forced open. This discovery was what had made Jack cry out in disbelief. Father’s intuition must also be a thing, because he told me later that, even though the door was still closed, the moment he saw the gouges in the wood near the handle, he had felt that same sense of dread. That feeling that the universe had suddenly tilted on its side, discarding us into black nothingness.
The house was ransacked.
Furniture upended, paintings and flatscreen televisions torn off the walls, shards of shattered vases littered the floors. Complete and utter chaos.
The master bathroom doorknob looked as if it had been shot off. We found my mother’s lifeless form huddled against the bathtub, my baby boy’s dead body clutched tightly in her arms.
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About Cassia Leo
New York Times bestselling author Cassia Leo loves her coffee, chocolate, and margaritas with salt. When she’s not writing, she spends way too much time re-watching Game of Thrones and Sex and the City. When she’s not binge watching, she’s usually enjoying the Oregon rain with a hot cup of coffee and a book.
Find her on...
Sex and giving women pleasure is the only way I can survive. I loved once and lost her...she died in front of me. I can never love again. This is my vocation. Or so I thought...
Until Tara.
My sexy neighbor with her douchenugget ex-fiancé. We weren't friends, we were barely acquaintances, until the tears, and the fistfight, and then ... the sex.
I want Tara, but having her means watching the walls of my carefully crafted existence crumble. I have the strength to provide women unlimited pleasure, but do I have the strength to love?
Nikki knows what it is to lose those you love. With her focus on her orphaned sister, she hasn’t given herself the chance to process her own grief over the loss of their parents. Life is chaos and the last complication she needs is a mate.
A lion alone for too long …
Joe Miller knows chaos. Being orphaned as a child, he’s never had a family to call his own. Crashing with a friend for the holidays, he’s hoodwinked into playing Santa Claus at a local mall. The last thing on his mind is finding a mate.
A love worth the risk …
With her baby sister on her hip, sadness in her eyes, and a longing in her heart, Nikki waits in line with her sister to see Santa. From the moment he scents her, Joe is in deep. It’s going to take everything he has to convince Nikki the love outweighs the risk to her heart. Luckily for Joe, he has fate and Nikki’s adorable baby sister on his side. After all, who can say no to the Purrfect Santa at Christmas?
Chapter One
If one more kid tried to pull his beard, he was going to roar.
Joe looked at the small spawn of Satan currently sitting on his lap and held in the urge to growl. The kid was maybe five years old, had blonde hair, blue eyes and dimples galore. His first thought was she was adorable. Now, after she’d pulled on his Santa beard during the picture, he knew better. She was nothing but trouble. If he really were Santa, he would give her coal in her stocking and a letter advising her parents to put her in the naughty corner.
“Smile, Santa!”
The photographer’s words were more of a warning than a cue to get ready for the second picture. So Joe played his role, ho ho ho’d, and smiled for the camera while the brat on his lap asked him for a pony.
There had been a time when Joe hadn’t dreaded Christmas so much. Back when he was a kid and everything about Christmas had still seemed so magical. Not so much anymore. It sucked when you spent the holidays alone. To say he was a bit bitter about the holiday season was an understatement.
Which was part of the reason he couldn’t believe he was here at The Mall of the Smokies, being the damn Santa. How had he gotten wrangled into this position again?
His buddy Sam. Buddy. So much for never leaving a man behind, he thought. There he sat, covered from head to toe in red velvet that was none too fresh and none too clean, thanks to the boozy sweat of the previous wearer. Of course, he’d also had more than one kid with a leaky diaper on his lap that day.
And Sam, where was Sam? Nowhere to be seen.
Joe and Sam had served together in the Marine Corps, but once Sam had completed his term of service, he’d come back home to help run the family business, a lodge in the mountains of East Tennessee. Joe, having nowhere to go after getting out of the service himself, had taken Sam up on his offer to crash at the Bearadise Lodge.
There was just one catch. The Lodge was sponsoring Santa’s Workshop at the local outlet mall, and they were short one Santa. Apparently, the old Santa had been fired for drinking on the job.
Damn that Sam!
After only one day of being Santa, Joe could see why the previous hire had been driven to drink. These kids were hell on his nerves. Like the blonde brat who was once again pulling on his beard. He was just about to give her a little growl when she hopped off his lap and ran giggling to her mother, who gave him an unapologetic glance before dismissing him entirely.
This job would have been so much easier if he were in a shifter-run community. Then he could growl all he wanted. Instead, he was dealing with humans and had to keep his feline traits under wraps.
As the next kid, a little boy about the age of four, climbed on to his lap and proceeded to fart, Joe did his best not to cringe. Bullets and bad guys he could deal with. Snot-nosed kids were apparently his downfall. He’d only been at this for a day and he was thinking of telling Sam he could shove this Santa job where the sun didn’t shine. Joe didn’t even want to think about doing this until Christmas Eve. Three days away. Three long, miserable, endless days of bratty kids, droopy diapers, and disaffected parents more interested in their phones than their kids.
In fact, as the next kid proceeded to sneeze all over him, Joe considered walking out right then.
But then something happened that kept him glued to his seat. His sharp lion senses caught a new smell among the crowd. Peppermint and sugar cookies.
Mate, his lion roared inside his head.
The one person that was cosmically meant for him and him alone. The woman that Mother Nature deemed his. He scanned the crowd until he finally saw her at the end of the line, waiting to come see him.
Short, with generous curves that would fill his hands, she had black hair pulled to the top of her head in a messy bun. He wondered what color her eyes were, being too far away to see them. Scanning the rest of her body, he suddenly stopped when he came to the thing that shocked him the most.
A kid on her hip.
Was it her child? From this far away, he couldn’t scent the small one. Had someone already laid hands on his mate? His lion roared again, only this time it was in protest. No one should touch his mate but him! He would slaughter the man who had dared give his mate a cub.
“SANTA!” the elf behind the camera shouted.
Joe snapped his attention back to the man he was going to eviscerate for taking his concentration away from his mate, only to find a scared human staring at him. It was then he realized the child on his lap was shaking in fear.
The elf inched forward to whisper so the others in line couldn’t hear. “You growled at him, Santa! Say you’re sorry.”
His stomach sank. To say he felt like a colossal piece of shit was an understatement. He had been so wrapped up in his emotions that he had let his lion slip out a little in public, which was a big hell no in the shifter rules. Joe looked at the little boy on his lap and gave the kid a big smile, trying to play off what had happened. “How would you like a stuffed lion for Christmas? They go grrrrrrr.”
The little boy looked at him with wide eyes that slowly turned from fear to curiosity. “You can make a stuffed lion that growls?”
Joe nodded. “Sure can. I can put the elves to work on it right away if that’s what you want.”
The little boy scrunched his face up in thought but then shook his head no. “I really want a bike for Christmas, Santa. Can I have that instead of the lion?”
Relieved that the boy was no longer scared, Joe gave him a big grin and a wink. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Yippee!” The boy squealed as he jumped off Joe’s lap and ran to his mother, who was waiting for him next to the photographer.
Joe watched as the boy happily walked away, then quickly turned his attention back to his mate, who was watching him from the back of the line with big wary eyes. The mating scent was too strong. He couldn’t tell whether or not the child was hers, but that didn’t matter.
She was his.
And if that meant he had to accept another man’s cub into his home to claim his mate, then that’s what he would do. Although he would take great pleasure in rubbing his scent all over both woman and cub every chance that he got. Just to make sure that everyone knew that they were now his and his alone.
Jessie Lane is a best-selling author of Paranormal and Contemporary Romance, as well as, Upper YA Paranormal Romance/Fantasy.
She lives in Kentucky with her two little Rock Chicks in-the-making and her over protective alpha husband that she’s pretty sure is a latent grizzly bear shifter. She has a passionate love for reading and writing naughty romance, cliff hanging suspense, and out-of-this-world characters that demand your attention, or threaten to slap you around until you do pay attention to them.
She’s also a proud member of the Romance Writers of America (RWA).
Chasity Bowlin lives in central Kentucky with her husband and their menagerie of animals. She loves writing, loves traveling and enjoys incorporating tidbits of her actual vacations into her books. She is an avid Anglophile, loving all things British, but specifically all things Regency. She also writes steamy contemporary and paranormal romance.
Growing up in Tennessee, spending as much time as possible with her doting grandparents, soap operas were a part of her daily existence, followed by back to back episodes of Scooby Doo. Her path to becoming a romance novelist was set when, rather than simply have her Barbie dolls cruise around in a pink convertible, they time traveled, hosted lavish dinner parties and one even had an evil twin locked in the attic.
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