In the silvery waterfall of moonlight, Jonathan Aztec, my second in command, holding rank as Beta of the Northridge pack, was something to behold. His powerful shoulders seemed to carry the waning gibbous, and the shadows that devoured the vast grounds of Battleridge manor granted him a wide berth. He was a superior specimen. He was a male worthy of the ranking he'd been bestowed. But like all creatures, he wasn't born perfect, and his character flaw was a fault that bled out into the night like a severed artery: Concern. It charged the air between us, a thick blanket that settled against the lungs like a boa-constrictor's loving embrace. "What did you find?" I asked. The perverse silence that had entombed the dilapidated courtyard, screaming so loud it rang through my ears like a twisted lullaby, was shattered upon his approach. His boots smacked against the waterlogged ground, echoing in a way that spoke of his failures before he'd even opened his mouth. "Nothing," ....... "Until I can figure out what's going on, nobody finds out about the boy. Understand?" "Understood." "You're not going to ..." The pause that followed dragged out. "He's just a baby, Sterling." "You're dissmissed."

Mute from birth, Aiden Monroe, a young hybrid, had learnt from a young age just how cruel the world could be. Yet, as means to pay off an old debt, Aiden finds himself trapped in wolf territory. With the Alpha of the Blackwater pack still deciding his fate, he places Aiden's wellbeing in the hands of his emotionally distant nephew, Lincoln Briar. At first, Aiden finds himself thinking that Link was just a cold hearted beast, a monster that spoke with such venom that even snakes would bow their head in respect. Yet, the more time that they were forced to spend together, the more Aiden began to realize that there was a tenderness to the beast, a gentleness, though subtle, that he had almost overlooked. But when the outside threat that had been hanging over the Blackwater pack crept closer, Aiden, with his own life potentially in danger, finds himself thinking that perhaps a beast is only a beast after all. And his silence, for as loud as it could sometimes be, would never be enough to tame such a beast. Right?

In the silvery waterfall of moonlight, Jonathan Aztec, my second in command, holding rank as Beta of the Northridge pack, was something to behold. His powerful shoulders seemed to carry the waning gibbous, and the shadows that devoured the vast grounds of Battleridge manor granted him a wide berth. He was a superior specimen. He was a male worthy of the ranking he'd been bestowed. But like all creatures, he wasn't born perfect, and his character flaw was a fault that bled out into the night like a severed artery: Concern. It charged the air between us, a thick blanket that settled against the lungs like a boa-constrictor's loving embrace. "What did you find?" I asked. The perverse silence that had entombed the dilapidated courtyard, screaming so loud it rang through my ears like a twisted lullaby, was shattered upon his approach. His boots smacked against the waterlogged ground, echoing in a way that spoke of his failures before he'd even opened his mouth. "Nothing," ....... "Until I can figure out what's going on, nobody finds out about the boy. Understand?" "Understood." "You're not going to ..." The pause that followed dragged out. "He's just a baby, Sterling." "You're dismissed."

"I think I finally get it." "Get what?" There was something about the look in his eyes, the confidence, the surety, that had me swallowing hard. "You." And as he smiled, it was almost smug. "I get you, Oz. You're a little, Aren't you?" If only I had known at the time just how much those few little words were going to change my life.

"I think I finally get it." "Get what?" There was something about the look in his eyes, the confidence, the surety, that had me swallowing hard. "You." And as he smiled, it was almost smug. "I get you, Oz. You're a little, Aren't you?" If only I had known at the time just how much those few little words were going to change my life.

BOOK THREE in the Chronicles of mischief saga.《*Can be read as a stand alone*》 "Asa, you need to listen to Daddy," Joel Murdock warned. Asa Finch barely spared him a glance. "I'm not Asa. I'ma Dinosaur." "Asa... I won't ask you again." "RAWR!"

In the silvery waterfall of moonlight, Jonathan Aztec, my second in command, holding rank as Beta of the Northridge pack, was something to behold. His powerful shoulders seemed to carry the waning gibbous, and the shadows that devoured the vast grounds of Battleridge manor granted him a wide berth. He was a superior specimen. He was a male worthy of the ranking he'd been bestowed. But like all creatures, he wasn't born perfect, and his character flaw was a fault that bled out into the night like a severed artery: Concern. It charged the air between us, a thick blanket that settled against the lungs like a boa-constrictor's loving embrace. "What did you find?" I asked. The perverse silence that had entombed the dilapidated courtyard, screaming so loud it rang through my ears like a twisted lullaby, was shattered upon his approach. His boots smacked against the waterlogged ground, echoing in a way that spoke of his failures before he'd even opened his mouth. "Nothing," ....... "Until I can figure out what's going on, nobody finds out about the boy. Understand?" "Understood." "You're not going to ..." The pause that followed dragged out. "He's just a baby, Sterling." "You're dismissed."

*Spin off to The Little Of Oz.* Isaac Reid was the villain of his own story. Stuck in a rut and babysat by his own twisted emotions and negative thoughts, he was on a fast track to nowhere and he was losing friends everywhere he looked.Yet, when a one night stand turns into something far more, Isaac finds himself questioning everything. Who he is. What he stands for. His . . . sexuality. Everything. Deacon Baxter, the freak of a man with a disturbing interest in the world of all things kinky, had made him question everything. But Isaac was, in his own words, toxic, and somebody like Deacon, or anybody, for that matter, could never care for somebody like him. Right?

BOOK ONE in the Chronicles of Mischief saga When Sylvester Morgan had signed the contract, agreeing to become Jackson Palmer's baby boy, it had been unclear what to expect. Bottles, diapers and stuffed animals had never been the kind of things that had appealed to Sly. Yet, when Twenty thousand is offered to act like a baby for a month, as odd as it sounded to him, he found himself willing to try it. He just didn't expect to enjoy it.

BOOK TWO in the Chronicles Of Mischief saga. *Can be read as a stand alone.* "Tell me," Angel Toussaint said quietly, "Who you belong to, little one." "I belong to you, Daddy," Lucien Murdock whispered breathlessly. Angel was a Daddy Dom. Lucien was his baby boy. Nothing could come between that... right?

Book FOUR in the Chronicles of Mischief saga "You're a superstar, Ronan. You're made up of stardust and magic. Don't you ever let anybody dull your shine."