NAUGHTY BEASTS - Available Now!

NAUGHTY BEASTS: EIGHTEEN FABULOUS FANTASIES
Available Now!

Contains 18 Sci-Fi, Fantasy & Steampunk Stories from bestselling authors writing as The Naughty Literati

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Blurbs:

BUY ME A ROSE

Francesca Hawley

Jessica and Nathaniel Whitewolf celebrate their thirtieth anniversary as True Mates, but they’ve lost their bond. Now a hot couples’ retreat will get it back.

HOW TO BLACKMAIL A VAMPIRE (BLOOD MATES 1)

Belle Scarlett

In the spring, a vampire’s fancy turns to the blood lust mating hunt. A pretty, human blackmailer becomes the object of his thirst, but she’s not into vampires. Yet.

HYBRID MATES: MERRY CHRISTMAS, KITTEN

Nicole Austin

Sirena Petra wants one thing for Christmas—an orgasm. And sex toy expert Kenyon Fort has exactly what the lion shifter needs to find more than just her happy place.

VIKING IN TARTAN

Suz deMello

Medieval romance from the Highland Vampires series. A Viking raider brings change to little Clan Kilbirnie, especially to the chieftain’s daughter, Rhona.

HYBRID MATES: MY VALENTINE LOVERS

Nicole Austin

All I want for Valentine’s Day is to get barbed by a feline shifter and act out a few of the naughty twin fantasies getting me hot and bothered.

PERFECTLY PRESENTED

Berengaria Brown

Blake sees Xavier agonizing over unclaimed gift tags for poor children on the holiday tree. Will Blake tell Xavier about his past and his problem?

HYBRID MATES: MY KIND OF LOVER

Nicole Austin

Badass biker girl, accountant, lioness shifter—I’m all that and more. And this hybrid wolf thinks he can take me on? Bring it, you sexy beast! I’ve got this.

SOPHIE’S CHRISTMAS GARGOYLE

Katherine Kingston

When Sophie helps rescue a battered woman, she gets more than one surprise from the woman’s other self-appointed protector.

HYBRID MATES: SEX ME UP

Nicole Austin

One night at a Paris sex club—no strings, complications, or inhibitions—just lots of fantasy sex. But in the morning I forgot the most important rule. Never run from a feline predator—they live for the chase.

IMMORTAL HUNTERS

Suz deMello

Vampire Rama avoids attention by working nights as a private investigator. No one cares if some bad guys disappear on her shift. Then Detective John van Helsing shows up. Bearing the name of the vamps’ greatest foe, he interferes in her case and in her life. Friend, lover, or enemy?

THE BERMUDA LOVE TRIANGLE

(PACK MASTERS 1)

Belle Scarlett

Castaway in the Bermuda Triangle, Trista finds herself torn between two sexy shifters. Neither will share her so she must choose between them. Decision, decisions…

OCEAN DREAMS

Suz deMello

Marine biologist Sandi has never forgotten Blue, the baby dolphin with whom she bonded. Reunited with him years later, she discovers he’s a shapeshifter in the sexiest possible way.

HER GARGOYLE GUARDIAN

Katherine Kingston

Ginny decides to pursue a relationship with Ben despite the risks to her heart. She can cope with his claim that he’s a shape-shifting gargoyle, but his warning that they will have only a short time together gives her pause.

NO GENTLEMAN

Francesca Hawley

Librarian Abby Kelly comes west finding a roguish shapeshifter who desires her. Will Goldwolf is no gentleman, but Abby discovers he’s just what she wants.

WERE THE HELL?

Berengaria Brown

Septimus has to learn why no female weres have been born into his pack. When he walks into the meeting room he smells his mate. A male.

*These titles have been previously published in earlier Naughty Literati boxed-sets.*

Excerpt from Her Gargoyle Guardian by Katherine Kingston

Part of the NAUGHTY FLAMES boxed-set, available for pre-order now, downloads on December 1st

Click here to pre-order from Amazon


Blurb:
Ginny decides to pursue a relationship with Ben despite the risks to her heart. She can cope with his claim that he’s a shape-shifting gargoyle, but his warning that they will have pnly a short time together, gives her pause.
 
Genre/theme: Contemporary Paranormal, Shapeshifter, Gargoyle, BDSM

Copyright © Katherine Kingston, 2016

Excerpt:
The part of Washington, D.C. where Ginny lived, in the shadow of the national cathedral, got quieter at night, but never completely silent. Traffic sounds, a constant buzz, mixed with the occasional distant roar of an airplane or clatter of a train to form a white noise backdrop to her quick walk from the bus stop to the apartment she rented in an older house. Getting home late in the evening was one of the downsides of her second-shift job at the hospital. Once she could afford a car, it wouldn’t be a problem, but she still had student loans to pay off.

Moments after she got off the bus, the other sound was there as well. For the past several weeks, she’d been noticing an odd noise as she headed for home. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear it was the sound of wings flapping. Whenever she turned to look, though, she didn’t see anything or anyone there. It added to her uneasiness on the walk.

When trouble did come that night in late fall, though, it hit her from a different direction entirely. As she turned a corner, an older man in a ragged trench coat reached forward from the wall he leaned against and snagged a hand around the strap of her shoulder bag, yanking it toward him. Ginny wrapped her wrist around the strap and wrestled him for it. At the same time she fought her reaction to the miasma of fumes surrounding the purse snatcher, a ghastly mix of alcohol breath and unwashed body. Nothing she hadn’t smelled before at the hospital, but at least there she could don a mask.

The guy was surprisingly strong and she was losing the tug-of-war for her purse when a new party entered the fray. A tall dark figure did a karate-type chop on the purse-snatcher’s arm causing him to howl and let go of the strap. Ginny rocked backward but found her balance.

“Never again,” the newcomer growled in a deep, gravelly voice that didn’t need much enhancement to sound menacing. “Never again attack a woman. Or anyone. No stealing.” Ginny shivered, though the words weren’t directed at her.

“I won’t,” the purse-snatcher stammered. “Promise I won’t. Think my arm’s broken.” He cradled it against his body.

Ginny sighed and approached him, steeling herself against the smell. “Don’t touch my bag again. Let me feel your arm. I’m a nurse.”

Trembling, he held it out to her. She ran her fingers over a very thin arm from wrist to elbow and stopped when he cried out in pain. She pulled her cell phone from the bag and called 9-1-1, explained that she’d found an older man on the sidewalk who seemed to have a broken arm. They promised to send an ambulance.

“I’ll wait here with you,” she told the old man. Her rescuer, a very tall figure wearing a dark, enveloping cloak and a ball cap with a long bill pulled down low over his face to hide his features, hadn’t said another word, but he stayed close by.

To pass the time and distract the man from his pain, she asked, “Why did you try to take my bag?”

He took a long time to answer. “Need money. Hungry. And thirsty. Know it’s wrong, but the urge just took me.”

“And now you have a broken arm as a result. There are easier ways.”

Ginny sighed and fumbled in her bag. She took out a ten dollar bill and handed it to the man as a siren wailed in the distance. “After they treat you get some food.” The screech grew rapidly closer, until the ambulance stopped beside them and the medics jumped out. After some checking of vital signs and condition, they put a splint on the arm and loaded the man into their truck to take to the hospital.

Her rescuer had hung back in the shadows while the medics were there, but once they departed he came to her again.

“You took care of him and gave him money even though he tried to rob you. Why?” he asked bluntly.

“He’s a poor, sick old man. It was wrong to try to steal, but he’s paying a stiff price for it. I feel sorry for him.”

The stranger made no reply to that directly, but moved with her when she turned toward home. “I’ll stay with you until you get to your house.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” His cloak flapped in the gentle breeze. “It’s been you. I’ve thought someone has been following me from the bus stop to the house for the last few weeks. Who are you? Why are you doing that?”

“It’s what I do.”

“Guard people? Not just me?”

“Not just you. But you...” He hesitated. “You interest me the most.”

Why Gargoyles?

I recently finished my story for the next Naughty Literati anthology, Naughty Flames.  Like my story from last year’s winter anthology, it involves gargoyles. Because of the mythology I’ve established for gargoyles in my world, winter is about the only time I can do interesting stories for them since that’s the time period when they can assume human form. That works for me since I don’t want to limit myself to gargoyle stories but I do enjoy writing about them.

So, why do I like gargoyles so much? Beats me.

I’d like to leave it at that, but I’m a writer, so of course I have a few more thoughts and words about it.

What is it about gargoyles that makes them so fascinating? Maybe the fact that they’re just so very homely, and humans have an odd soft spot for the outrageously ugly. They’re kind of underdogs by definition. Except that we often picture them as strong, fierce, and able to fly. Yup, bit of a paradox there.

Because they often grace churches and large public buildings and are usually built high on the structure and shown facing outward, we tend to view them as guardians or at least lookouts. And there we start to get an interesting contrast, because if they’re guarding anything, they’re guarding the building, and by extension, us, the people who use that building. So they’re doing a service for us.

It’s kind of hard to figure out just what they’re guarding us against, but I suspect that line of thought could lead to another series of stories when I do start to get a glimmer of the dark side these creatures help to keep at bay.

For me, the contrast between an ugly exterior and a beautiful soul inside is one of the features that fascinates me. I guess it’s a Beauty and the Beast kind of archetype, with a heroine who comes to realize that looks are important, but they aren’t the most reliable mirror of the soul within.

My Favorite Christmas Things

The Naughty Chances anthology is now available – click here!  It includes my Christmas story, Sophie’s Christmas Gargoyle.  Most people don’t automatically thing “gargoyle” when we talk about Christmas, but for some reason I do.  This is actually my second Christmas gargoyle story. The first one, A Gargoyle’s Christmas, is currently out of print, but I hope to have it available again before next Christmas. In the meantime, you can get your Christmas gargoyle fix from the story in Naughty Chances, along with lots of other terrific winter and holiday set tales.

Why gargoyles at Christmas?  I have no idea. I set up the trope in my first story that gargoyles can only take human form during the short days before and after the winter solstice, which makes them naturals for the season. Why did I do that?  I don’t know. It just seemed like a cool idea and was a great way to build tension to the stories. The person who loves them has to be able to show they love them just as they are before the gargoyle can become fully human year-round.

So, now, a few of my other favorite holiday things:

• Outdoor light displays: the bigger, gaudier, more raucous the better!
• Peppermint Mochas from Starbucks: I have to limit myself to only a couple per season, but it’s a favorite treat.
• Chocolate chip cookies –  I once asked my mom for the recipe for her chocolate chip cookies, and she handed me a package of Nestle’s morsels, pointed to the back, and said, “There it is” Dang those are good!
• Candles, especially scented ones.
• Wrapped presents under the tree. It’s all about the anticipation.
• Watching my kids and now my grandkids unwrapping those presents.  The excitement and enthusiasm is so contagious.

What are your holiday favorites?

Excerpt from SOPHIE'S CHRISTMAS GARGOYLE by Katherine Kingston

Part of the NAUGHTY CHANCES boxed-set, available for download December 1st

Click here to pre-order now from Amazon
 
Blurb: When Sophie helps rescue a battered woman, she gets more than one surprise from the woman’s other self-appointed protector.

Genre/theme: Paranormal, Fantasy, Gargoyle, Holiday

Copyright © Katherine Kingston, 2015

Excerpt: 

She ignored Jean’s query and wide-eyed astonishment as she went out into the rain. A freezing blast of wind pushed against her as she struggled to get to the corner. The woman still stood there, though she turned a startled and terrified look her way when Sophie put a hand on her arm. Fortunately the terror faded when she saw Sophie, but the look of resignation, almost despair, that replaced it was heart-breaking.

“You’ll catch your death out here,” Sophie said. “My shop’s right over there. Please come in.”

The woman didn’t answer, but she didn’t resist when Sophie led her to the door. Jean met them there and held it open. As Sophie turned to close it behind her she noticed the man still watched from a doorway opposite. She couldn’t see his eyes, but knew he was staring at her now. To her surprise, he nodded acknowledgment, but made no other move.

She didn’t have time to puzzle over it. Jean had already nudged the woman into the one armchair, retrieved a couple of towels, and was trying to dry her off. Sophie hung up her coat and dropped the umbrella. Jean had put on the kettle to heat water and Sophie made tea, then brought the cup over.

“Drink,” she told the soaked woman, who still seemed in shock. The woman took it from her and sipped carefully. A bit of tension seeped from her and she wrapped her hands around the cup, savoring the warmth.

“I’m Sophie. This is Jean. What’s your name?” she asked.

“Eleanor. Ella, most people call me.” Her teeth chattered a bit on the answer. She looked up at them and pushed hanks of long, sopping brown hair off her face.

Sophie sucked in a harsh breath. “Who did that?” A swollen knot stood out on the woman’s cheek; another disfigured her sharp jaw; and a dark ring circled her left eye.

The woman leaned forward, hanging her head, letting wet hair fall back over her face. She wore a plain, gold band on her left hand.

“Your husband?”

A sharp, quick nod answered the question.

“Do you have children?”

This time she shook her head in a negative.

That was a relief. “I know a place you can go where you’ll be safe,” Sophie told her. “I can call right now and get you in.”

Ella shook her head again. “He’s… You have no idea.”

Sophie sighed. “Oh, yes, I do. I have a very good idea. Been there.”

“You have?” The woman jerked her head back to stare at Sophie.

“It’s not my best memory. But yes. He wasn’t my husband, but that didn’t actually make much difference. We’d talked about getting married. He’d always had a temper, but I didn’t think too much of it until he started pushing me around and then hitting me. Unfortunately, we’d already moved in together. He was always so apologetic, but at the same time, he convinced me it was all my fault. Now I can’t believe I let him get away with that shit.”

“How did…?” She shook her head and looked down again.

“How did I get out of it? With a lot of help. I was fortunate that my aunt was still living then. I went to her one day when I was all beat up and scared that I might die from it, and she took me in. Got me involved with a group that helped me realize I was worth more than just a target for an abuser, and while it wasn’t my fault that he was punching me, it was my fault that I continued to let him. That I kept accepting his bad-mouthing and his apologies and the promises he never kept. It took a while before I believed it, but now I can see how stupid I was to let him convince me I was ignorant and useless and deserved his abuse.”

Ella started shivering violently. Sophie took the nearly empty teacup from her and set it aside. “I can put you in touch with the people who helped me. All I need to do is make a phone call and they’ll help. I promise they can help.”

The front door of the shop suddenly opened and closed rapidly. Sophie jumped and turned that way. The man she’d seen in the doorway across the street stood there, ignoring the rain water dripping off his clothes.

“Her husband is looking for her.” He had a deep, raspy voice. The hood still shadowed his features; along with his size and something about his tense stance, it made him seem sinister and menacing. And, yet, attractive as well. Blast. Surely she’d gotten beyond that now.

“He doesn’t know she’s in here.” The stranger glanced around the shop, stopping for a moment to study Sophie’s face. He shook off the distraction. “Get her out of sight before he walks by and sees her.”

Sophie turned to Ella. “Is that your husband?” she asked.

The woman gaped at the newcomer. “No. I have no idea who he is. I’ve never seen him before.”

“Who are you?” Sophie demanded of the man.

“Later.” The word was sharp with impatience. “Get her out of sight now. Make the place look normal. I’ll answer questions later.” He glanced out the window, up the street. “He’s headed this way. Hurry.”