#Werewolves. #Romance. Technical Difficulties.

Sonya is straight. She’s also terrified of werewolves. So, when she’s forced to work with a male-to-female transgender wolf, the last thing she expects is to fall in love. But, hey, not so fast. Falling in love with a werewolf means living in her pack, where first-time sex equals mating. For life.

Author: Emily Carrington

Cover Art: Angela Knight

BIN: 009019-02918

Genres: Action AdventureNew ReleasesParanormalRomanceUrban Fantasy

Themes: Bisexual, Pansexual & Gender Non-ConformingElves, Dragons & Magical CreaturesMulticultural & InterracialShapeshiftersWerewolves

Series: Lady Troubles (#1)

Multiverse: Searchlight (#7)

Book Length: Novella

Page Count: 121
Price: $4.99   $4.24

Technical Difficulties (Lady Trouble 1)
Emily Carrington
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Emily Carrington

The dragon had been brutalized. As Medical Technician Sonya Johnson worked over the corpse, she couldn’t miss the signs. The poor dragon-in-human-guise was female. She’d given birth recently. Her distended stomach, open cervix, and other signs all bore witness to this.

Sonya whispered, “I think you were dead when most of these were inflicted.” She’d quickly discovered the cause of death: a crushed skull that had occurred while the dragon was in human form. Now all she wanted was to be done chronicling the postmortem atrocities and see to it that the poor soul had a decent burial.

Sonya smiled just a little. Thinking of any dragon as a “poor soul” was a little like calling a lion a kitty cat. Dragons, like werewolves, she thought with a shudder, were known for taking care of themselves. Both apex predators of the magical world, for slightly different reasons, they were treated with respect and almost obsessive politeness by other magical beings and the few humans unlucky enough to know about their existence.

“Humans like me.” Her smile was gone as she finished cataloging the last injury. Shaking her head, Sonya covered the body with a sheet and left the autopsy room. She locked the door before heading into her office.

All right, so it wasn’t technically “her” office any more than the autopsy room belonged to her. But she thought of both as her property because she spent more time in them than anyone else. That was thanks to the doctoral-level degree she was seeking from SearchLight Academy in Reptilian Magical Creatures: Treatment and Dissection. Unlike those who studied humans, magical creature experts were expected to have a wider knowledge base. The closest comparison Sonya could make was a general-practice physician. And even they weren’t responsible for both the living and the dead.

She had just finished her second year of postgraduate work. It was May. She had a blissful ten weeks off for the summer. Of course, she was still expected to work on her dissertation, so “rest” wasn’t in her vocabulary. But she wouldn’t be attending biweekly meetings with this or that professor to discuss her research. She might even have considered a week away from the city of Tampa, where she worked, and its lesser cousin, the city of St. Petersburg, where she lived. But she hadn’t scheduled any time off because she’d been too fixated on her dissertation to think beyond the next few days.

Someone knocked on the office door. Not closed completely and made of a light pressboard, the door opened a little more. Sonya caught sight of a skirt in a bold print and a tapered shoe. She called, “Come in.”

A woman stepped inside, saying simply “Sorry to disturb you” — and Sonya’s mind went sideways. Not because there was anything particularly wrong with the voice. It was just that she wasn’t used to hearing a slightly male-sounding voice coming out of a woman’s body.

Transgender. That’s what they call themselves. And, on the heels of that, I hate it when someone says “they” about my people so I will not start out by thinking of this person as a part of “they.” She’s dressed as a woman. I’ll call her “her.”

“Um,” she said uncomfortably, “you’re not. Please sit down.”

The transgender person — the woman, Sonya scolded herself — didn’t sit. Neither did she shut the door. “Thanks, but…” She looked briefly discomfited. “I’m Agent Brown. Maxine.”

That surely wasn’t the name you were born with. Oh, shut the fuck up! She doesn’t want you staring, and you will get over yourself.

Sonya realized Maxine was waiting for a response. Her small, delicate and frankly attractive nose was turning slightly red, just like Sonya’s did when she was embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” she said, rising and extending her hand. “I’m Sonya Johnson, one of the medical techs.”

The moment their hands touched, the hair on the back of Sonya’s neck stood up. She pulled back rather quickly. “Um… um…” She looked away from the hand she’d shaken and into eyes that were startling in their beauty. Honey-brown and shadowed by long, thick lashes, they took Sonya’s breath away. She forgot for a moment that her neck was prickling and smiled. “How may I help you?”

Maxine, who had taken a step forward to grip Sonya’s hand, retreated at least that far. “Agent Wellington wants to see you when it’s convenient.” She hesitated before adding, “He’s the head of Werewolf Watch.”

Sonya shivered. She couldn’t help herself. She hated werewolves. They were the craziest, most terrifying — Oh, get ahold of yourself. If you’re being called, you specifically… She met Maxine’s eyes. “You are looking for me, right? Because Jenny Davis could –”

“I’m sorry. He wants you personally.” She really did look empathetic. “If it helps, it will just be him, you, and me in a large conference room.”

Sonya’s particular skills were needed. She specialized in dragons and basilisks. What could she possibly do for a werewolf? Because Wellington had to be a werewolf. Unlike in the Department of Dragons, with which Sonya worked on a regular basis, Werewolf Watch was stuffed to capacity with, well, what else? Werewolves.

Shit. That probably means this woman is a werewolf. She looked directly into Maxine’s eyes, needing to know. “You’re a werewolf too?”

Maxine nodded. “Agent Wellington said to tell you he understands your circumstances, whatever those are, and that he wouldn’t call for you unless it was absolutely necessary. He also promises you can have a large conference room and it will only be the three of us; Agent Wellington, you, and me. We want to make you as comfortable as possible.”

Whatever those are. She doesn’t know. Sonya felt a little better. “Can he give me fifteen minutes to… to…” She glanced down at her report. To finish my work flashed across her mind, but it would take at least two hours to do that.

“I’ll tell him you’ll be up in thirty,” Maxine said gently.

Feeling a little more comforted, Sonya said, “Thank you. I’ll be up soon.”

Maxine left, closing the door behind her. Black, like me. But transgender and werewolf. The three modifiers to the name Agent Maxine Brown hit one right after the other. Sonya sank into her chair and covered her face with her hands. If she was going to have a prayer of working with werewolves…

BUY IT NOW @ Changeling Press

Or preorder using any of the bookseller links on the Publisher Site

Writing habits of a romance author

 

21151378_10213695198592440_2925865773603312114_nEver wonder what a writer looks like when they’re writing? I always pictured a slightly manic person, hunched over their keyboard and typing furiously while muttering weird phrases that no one could understand.

I can’t speak for other authors, but I’m about as far from that as you can get. I do have an office, with a desk and a chair and lots of shelves and file cabinets, but that’s not where I write. That’s where I do my accounting-day-job kinds things.

When my muse is co-operating, I can be found sitting on my big overstuffed sofa, feet up on the footstool in front of it. My laptop is open on my lap, and the cat is perched on the back of my neck, purring away. The dog is stretched out beside me and occasionally nudges my arm to reminding me I’m allowed to pet him.

I guess I’m lucky because I live alone, except for my menagerie. Even though I’m sitting right out in the open, in the middle of the house, no one interrupts me by turning on the television or running through the room screaming. I’m not motivated to jump up and answer the phone just because it’s ringing, and I don’t live in town, so wandering salesmen are few and far between as are those nice people who want to save my soul. I can spend hours in decadent comfort while pounding out the day’s word count.

As lazy as that sounds, I console myself with the fact that at least I’m generally not still in my pajamas. That’s less because of good habits and more because I need to take the dog for a long run in the morning or he won’t let me sit still and write. I like to refer to him as my little exercise program. He also likes to take the occasional meander around the yard to do his personal business, so that make me get off my butt and stretch on a semi regular basis.

Occasionally, I go camping (as pictured above) and then I write on a folding camp chair by the river.  It may not be high class, but it’s definitely relaxing and that’s a good thing.

So there you have it, the writing habits of a romance author!

Books – Prizes – Authors- Romance

eosb_2019_big

TRS End of Summer Bash is starting tomorrow. If you’re a fan of romance, free books, authors or all of the above, make sure you pop by and join in the fun.

There may even be a sneak peak at my upcoming release – Running From the Cyborg!

It’s all right here:   https://trsparties.com

 

Who’s a fan of Motorcycle Romance?

#MCRomance #Romantic Suspense #VigilanteJustice #OrganizedCrime #Veteran #Series #HEA

Brewer Cover

Brewer’s Ward

Devil’s Outlaws 4

By Lynn Burke

Publisher: Changeling Press

World-Wide Release Date: August 23, 2019

She might be his mark, but one look into her eyes slays him.

Blurb:

Reagan “Brewer” de Jager might look soft as a teddy bear, but his stint as a sniper in the SEALs hardened him into a lethal killer. The fact his wife cheated on him while he’d been deployed makes him unable to trust. Cold hearted and empty, he sets his sights on his next mark—and one look into her eyes slays him.

Nova Smego wasn’t nicknamed Black Widow by her CIA superiors without reason. Underestimated for her petite form, she’s quick with her fists and lethal with a blade or a bullet. Tossed out of the CIA with a scarred reputation, she joins a hitmen-for-hire team in the hopes of exacting revenge on the one who ruined her career.

When the Outlaws eliminate her team in order to rescue one of their own, Nova is kept alive—tied to her captor. A winter storm kills the electricity, but not the heat building between her and Brewer. There was a reason he couldn’t end her, and while she plans her escape, she fears losing her heart to the chemistry sizzling between them.

But when Nova’s desire for vengeance shakes the tentative bond between them, the Outlaws issue Brewer an ultimatum. Pull the trigger, or find common ground to trust one another and avoid the Outlaws’ demand for her life.

​PURCHASE LINKS:

Changeling Press – 15% sale: https://www.changelingpress.com/brewer-s-mark-devil-s-outlaws-mc-4-b-2912

Amazon Universal: http://mybook.to/BREWERSMARK

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/brewers-mark-lynn-burke/1132740360

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/brewer-s-mark

iTunes: https://books.apple.com/us/book/brewers-mark/id1475028866

Books2Read Universal: https://books2read.com/brewersmarkdo4

EXCERPT:

Brewer stood in the doorway, his gaze flitting over my face as he stepped inside my prison.

My heart spasmed — and that damn tingle between my thighs roared to life. I scowled.

Chin tilted up, I held his blue eyed stare, trying to focus on what he’d done, the family he’d taken from me, rather than the arousal he’d woken inside my core.

A twinkle lit his eye and twitched his lips peeking from his full beard — a beard that appeared silky, bringing to mind an image of his dark head between my thighs. Would his facial hair tickle? Scrape and mark my skin?

I swallowed and jerked my focus back up to his eyes, determined to keep silent no matter what he said — or did.

He caved from the silence between us first, expelling a heavy exhale, his shoulders relaxing the slightest bit. “What’s your name?”

“Eat shit.”

His lips quirked as though to smirk, but flat lined. “Bet you got your ass bullied for that name while growing up.”

“Fuck off.”

“I’d rather fuck you.”

My breath caught — and Brewer blinked as though his words had escaped unintended. He stood a few feet in front of me, doing nothing to hide the cock swelling inside his leathers. Long and hard…

The tingle of arousal morphed into pure wetness, dampening my panties in the span of a single breath as we stared at one another, our fogging breaths loud in the stillness.

“Goddamnit.” Brewer scrubbed a hand down over his face and beard while I attempted to swallow the dryness from my throat. He spun and left without another word, leaving my upper body unwrapped.

My arousal kept me warm for all of two minutes before my teeth began to chatter.

Fucking asshole couldn’t handle the sexual tension, the complication of what that brought to our situation. He fled like a pansy-ass.

Better that than rape me

“Fuck,” I muttered, eyes clenching shut against the thought of him thrusting into my body. My pussy spasmed, deepening my frown. I hadn’t let a man’s dick near me in over three years — and I wasn’t about to let some Stockholm syndrome make me lenient. No matter how fucking hot said man might be.

He’d killed my team, so given the chance, I would kill him.

© Lynn Burke 2018

OTHER BOOKS IN THE DEVIL’S OUTLAWS SERIES:

Bowie’s Angel, Devil’s Outlaws MC 1: http://mybook.to/BowiesAngel

Gunner’s Flame, Devil’s Outlaws MC 2: http://mybook.to/GUNNERSFLAME

Austin’s Ward, Devil’s Outlaws MC 3: http://mybook.to/AUSTINSWARD

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ABOUT LYNN BURKE:

Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.

Website: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Author-Lynn-Burke-555282497937461/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorLynnBurke

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorlynnburke/

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/lynn-burke

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