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1
Michael Caldwell—medical examiner, odd, blood obsessed.
His new life in Chicago consists of performing autopsies
and eating chips while watching old detective series.
Until…
“He’s suddenly standing in front of me.
Leather jacket, washed-out jeans, jet black hair.
His deep, green eyes are so intense on me I can barely breathe.
It’s in his crooked smile, bold flirting and confident—borderline conceited—behavior
that I get lost.
The fact that he protects me five minutes later during an attempted robbery only reinforces my crazy-instant attraction toward him, though.
But there are shadows hiding in his gaze. And his apathetic yet possessive attitude confuses me.
Makes me care.
Makes me crave.
But then secrets come out and my life turns into a thriller movie.
Now I’m left wondering how this all started. And when the answer comes, I know I can never go back to my uneventful life. Would I even want to?
Would I be able to leave him?
‘Never again’, he whispers.”
WARNING-This is not a sci-fi angel story, unless you see eager vigilantes with a dark side as angels.
This is an action packed romance with an HEA and no cliffhangers. It features an over the top possessive psychopath, and a peculiar medical examiner with a stomach made of steel. There’s violence, torture (only of very bad people), dark humor, amazing side characters and very spicy scenes with blood play. Morally gray area is quite stretched in this story.
This is book one in the Angels of Wrath Series. Each book follows a different couple.
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2
Oliver “Ollie” Truman
My purpose in life has always been to protect my little brother. And the only way to do that is to do what my dirtbag of a father says—easier said than done. So my plan is to save enough money to grab our backpacks and leave these miserable days behind us. There’s no harm in having a little fun in the meantime though, is there? And the growling beast who flattens his opponents with a single punch looks like a perfectly hot diversion to me.
The crowd calls him Hulk. Dark intense eyes, large hands, scarred back, huge rocky pecs, thick arms, and tree-trunk thighs. And if the bulge in his pants is not a mirage, a very proportionate…appendage.
He growls, I snort. He rejects me, I stalk him. He threatens me, I kiss him. He orders me around, I…that depends, are we in or out of bed?
His broody, rough demeanor dares me to get closer, and his crude, hard words turn me on like nothing ever before. My sassy mouth has gotten me in trouble more times than I can count but he seems to have found a very delicious way to shut me up.
But when I discover his protective side? His possessiveness? The secrets? The rage and destruction? Can two broken souls find their missing pieces among the dark, bloody, jagged ones?
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Hunter Penn
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One hellish moment. One painful decision. And everything radically changed.
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Years later, I’ve adjusted to my new life as a P.I. when a long-bearded, red-headed guy walks into an alley. The same dark alley where I’m having a talk with the armed men who were following me. The encounter is brief and bloody and ends with him winking at me as he drives away.
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My curiosity—and some tailing—brings us together again...or so I thought. He wants to work with me, and despite my lack of trust in the rest of the human population, I recognize his impressive skills and need his help to find out who’s been trying to kill me.
He calls me Grizzly, Papa Bear, Yogi. His incessant flirting, impish disposition, and sexy triple-dimpled smile drive me mad. Until I force him to his knees—and what a sight that is.
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Who’d have guessed I am into men in lingerie?
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But when he unexpectedly asks for my help, I discover a new side to him, and finally, I know what he is.
Mine.
Mine.
Mine.
​
I don’t care if he thinks he’s broken. Who isn’t?
I don’t care about his family’s side business.
I have a damn big skeleton hanging in my closet.
I don’t even care if my days are numbered.
He makes it worth every single moment.
The only thing that matters is being near him.
Protecting him.
Showing him who he belongs to.
3
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Lori Boone has always been unapologetically and shamelessly himself.
Petite, with soft curls and plump lips, he’s often underestimated. Until he parts those lips and the sassiness comes out.
He thrives in uncomfortable situations and plots petty revenge in his free time. Facts that don’t change even when he starts working for a prestigious law firm and under Gabriel Reed, his best friend’s brother-in-law
“Tailored three-piece suits, perfectly styled blond hair, demanding presence, and cold stare.
My boss.
Ugh.
Well, he’s my boss’s boss’s boss, so I don’t see him much. But when we do cross paths . . . nothing.
He barely acknowledges me despite my repeated attempts to get under his skin. I’m head-turning gorgeous, catching his sharp, silver eyes shouldn’t be this hard.
I don’t hide my deep dislike for him, and my outrageous antics should get me fired, but they barely illicit a reaction.
Everything changes after I stalk him—it has become a hobby of sorts—and end up drugged, desperate, and in need of rescue, only to be saved and more by...Gabe!
I know. Bonkers, right?
Even more if you add to the mix my tendency toward sexsomnia and his multiplicity, things that set our worlds on fire.
I always thought I’d never settle for one man. More than one? Too crowded.
But what if two men share one body?
They might be exactly what I need.”
4
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Two Xmas Novellas in the Angels of Wrath series.
Happy Krampus Xmas
Happy Krampus Day!
Krampus who? Santa’s evil brother, duh.
The horned demon sort of cursed me, and I need to find a way to appease him.
Otherwise, I won’t be able to proceed with my donor initiation: blood, torture, death, screams—not in that order.
All I need is to follow my three-step groveling plan.
What could go wrong?
A cussing Santa, a house on fire, donors’ accidental deaths, groping spiders, a possessed hen, and pair of bloody itchy, furry shorts.
Xmas holidays suck, and not in the fun way…
The Meet Not Cute
Falling on a jock’s lap was definitely not part of my plan.
I’m turning my life around, studying hard and going my own way, when a meet not in the least cute puts me on TJ’s path.
Big.
Bigger.
A mountain of a football jock with brown, puppy eyes that unnerve me as much as they suck me in.
We have nothing in common. Not a thing.
But it seems he can’t stay away from me. So why not experiment with his new found bi-sexuality? I’m all for it.
I mean, his athletic, gigantic body is what wet dreams are made of—everything must be proportionate.
Please. Please. Please. Let it be proportionate.
I've been a...good-ish boy.
When I start to catch feelings, my self-preservation kicks in, urging me to turn and leave.
Hard to do that, though, when TJ’s massive body blocks all exits.
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