UPDATE: Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Pack is live!
Get your copy at Amazon!
* * * * *
I dawdled posting this blog today because I was hoping I’d have a live link for the book, but it hasn’t happened yet. So, I’m going to let you peek inside the story now, and when the link is live, I’ll update this blog. If you leave a comment and click that little box that asks if you want to see responses to the blog, you’ll know when the link is live!
You know I’ve been writing a series of stepbrother/menage stories these past months, and they’v e been doing well. But I thought I might play with the concept and add one more trope/theme that I hope you’ll enjoy. Check it out!
Cammi didn’t realize when she dropped out of college that her pack alpha, her stepbrother Corbin, would demand she choose a mate.
Angry, she chose three…
Read an excerpt:
There’s nothing more unnerving than waking up naked on your hands and knees in the middle of your brother’s pack—unless it’s waking in the middle of all the single males of that pack.
I blew a lock of hair from my eyes, dusted my hands of leaves and dirt, and slowly moved to sit on my haunches, trying my best not to give in to the urge to slide a hand between my legs and an arm over my breasts. My embarrassment would only sharpen their still-feral, mirrored stares.
“You couldn’t have ended the run closer to our cars?” I asked, turning to glare at my stepbrother Corbin. He and his friends had somehow managed to cull me from the larger pack during our run—a deliberate move, I knew, because he never did anything without calculation.
“Wouldn’t have been as much fun,” he said, lifting his upper lip. His teeth were always slow to shorten, so his smile was especially wolfish.
“You’re an asshole.”
“And you haven’t given me a name.” His gaze went to the males who formed a semi-circle around me. “Choose one. You’ve had time to get to know them. Weeks. You have a duty to fulfill.”
I licked my bottom lip, stalling for time, just as I had every day since I’d returned to the North Carolina mountains. If I’d known that dropping out of college in my sophomore year meant I had to immediately choose a mate, I might have gutted out the remainder of my degree—and then sought a place in a graduate program. I wasn’t ready to choose. Wolves mated for life. None of the men in front of me had held my interest during our supervised dates. How the hell was I supposed to shackle myself to one of them for the rest of my entire stinking life?
Although I had to admit that, naked, they looked a whole lot more interesting. All were young and well-built. Some lean, some burly. Dark and light.
Unwanted, desire stirred inside me. “Can I narrow my choices? Will that satisfy you for now?”
My brother’s jaw firmed. But then, he gave a curt nod. “Name them.”
I glanced around the circle, passing Scott, Doug, Jason, Mathias, Howie, and finally, I rested my gaze on Corbin, all the while thinking. This was just another stall tactic, and Corbin knew it, but he’d allowed me more time. Why? He didn’t have to. As the newly appointed alpha of our pack, he could simply make a decree and give me to one of his friends. As a breedable female, a rare commodity among werewolves, I understood my responsibility. Still, that didn’t mean I wasn’t resentful of my fate.
Since he was forcing me to narrow my field, I decided I wouldn’t let him see me as beaten, not even a bit. I pushed up from the ground. “Form a row,” I said to the handsome wolves surrounding me.
Scott glanced at Corbin. “You know you could just assign her a mate. She doesn’t understand her place.”
I stepped toward Scott and made sure he registered the fact I was as tall as he was. Our gazes collided. His pupils flared, nearly consuming the bright green irises. Brown shaggy hair tickled the tops of his shoulders. The days-old stubble framing his mouth gave him the look of a pirate, which fit given the fact we were all descended from Edward Teach’s crewmen, who had intermarried descendants of Jean Lafitte’s—all cursed by a Haitian witch, because they’d managed to steal her greatest treasure—her daughters.
Interestingly, Scott’s cock lengthened the longer I held his hard stare. It was lovely really. Long and thick, with a broad head. His balls were a little on the large side though. I almost passed him, but I liked the fact he was the most aggressive of the group. And one of my brother’s closest friends. The bitch inside me wanted to lick those big balls. My witchy DNA from my mother’s side wished Corbin would watch while I did it. I eyed his cock then arched a brow. “You,” I said softly.
He cupped himself and smiled.
An image flashed of those balls hitting my clit every time he stroked…
Maybe he read my mind, because his smile stretched, and his strut was especially cocky as he walked to stand beside Corbin.
I continued down the line.
Doug’s smile was open. Too honest. The last thing I wanted as a mate was a nice guy. I’d walk all over him and make his life a hell he didn’t deserve.
I moved to Jason. His smirk raised the hairs on my arms. I couldn’t stop myself, I growled deep in my throat and let him see my inner bitch, flashing him a glowing glare.
Next, I paused in front of Mathias. Quiet, watchful, golden-haired Mathias. Another of Corbin’s besties. Something about the way Mathias looked at me with his nearly purple eyes hinted at a sensual patience I found intriguing, right along with his arrow-tipped cock. Almost as intriguing as the plan building in my mind. “You,” I said.
Without a smile, his chin lifted, effectively cutting his gaze from mine because he was taller by a head. He strode to stand by Scott.
In front of Howie now, I sighed. Howie was a puppy. Playful. Happy. Ever eager to stick his nose where it wasn’t invited… I heard his sigh as I turned away.
I strode toward Corbin. My black-haired, burly brother. His expression was as hard as granite. Did it bother him to see my choices? Or was he bothered for another reason? I glanced at his cock, still flaccid. Was he truly uninterested or did he have that much control? Didn’t matter. He’d forced my hand. I’d give him back some of his own medicine.
I reached out and scraped a sharpened claw across his chest, watching as goose bumps lifted on his skin. A low warning sounded in the back of his throat. And his dark eyes narrowed to slits. “Don’t.”
I shook back my hair and stood on my toes so that my lips were even with his. An inch apart. Close enough I felt his harshening breaths against my mouth. “You,” I whispered.
And in case you haven’t already sampled my previous SSO stories…click on the covers!