Teaser Tuesday ~ Biological Compatibility by M.A. Freeman @writingmaf @changelingpress ~ @RABTBookTours #RABTBookTours #BiologicalCompatibility #MAFreeman #ChangelingPress #SciFi #PNR

 

Biological Compatibility 

by M.A. Freeman

Paranormal Romance, Sci-Fi, Shapeshifters

Date Published: 09/16/2022

 About the Book:

Phoebe Walden finally has it all. She’s met the love of her life, and she has a family she can tolerate, who accept her and love her no matter what. But there’s a darkness shadowing her, waiting to destroy her chance at happiness. Not on Phoebe’s watch. However it’s not just her happiness at stake, but all of theirs if she makes even one mistake.

Scott Quinn has done the best he could, floating under the radar. Hard choices have made it difficult for him even to face himself in the mirror. But things finally looking up. He’s found the perfect woman, who seems to be into him as much as he’s into her. Yet Scott has secrets. He knows who he is and what he’s done will cause friction. And always in the shadows lurks the harsh reality that his freedom has been an illusion all along.

Read an Excerpt:

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2022 MA Freeman 

Scott

Something wasn’t adding up here. Scott Quinn frowned at the data scrolling across his computer screen while comparing it to the file sizes collated at the bottom. None of this made sense. Not the file sizes nor the access times or the user accounts identified with random files. To be honest, it looked like accidental typos or errors, yet there were too many of them to write off.

Movement out of the corner of his eye drew his attention. He couldn’t help but smile at the window separating his office from the IS pool. She had arrived. Scott watched with interest as Phoebe Walden entered the outer office and took her place at her assigned computer. Only a few months had passed, but Scott was used to how she captivated all aspects of him.

Those instincts, the ones that had kept him alive, had been explicit in their need the first time he had laid eyes on her. They wanted her in their den, where they could keep her forever.

Scott knew it was crazy. But he was used to it after all these years, coming to terms with behaviors by no means human. The trick was learning to coexist with them, to incorporate them into his human life. To trust they would never lead him down the wrong path.

That meant he was planning to ask the delectable Phoebe out on a date. Now granted, there were issues to overcome. One, he was her direct supervisor, so there was an element of inequality within their power dynamics. Two, there was a company policy about fraternizing among coworkers that he was planning to disregard completely. And three, there were the secrets he carried with the potential to drive a wedge into any trust they might share in a relationship.

Scott watched through the glass. His smile widened into a grin. Phoebe had a little ritual she followed every day shortly after she arrived. It was the highlight of his morning to watch her perform it. After a thorough cleaning of everything on her desk, she would carefully unpack her messenger bag. He was amused while extremely curious about the little knickknacks she placed on her desk in full view of everyone, but mainly her.

There was a small folding picture frame and a small silver orb he thought might be a ball bearing, of all things. And last, a small wrench she propped atop the picture frame. Such a weird combination of items, yet Scott knew every one of them was significant in representing aspects of Phoebe’s life. He couldn’t wait to delve deep. To know her. To understand all the quirks that made her up.

Ping.

Scott frowned at the Instant Messenger alert. He clicked it open with a sigh. It was from his boss.

M. Foltz: Did you complete the audit?

Of course, he wanted to know if the audit was complete. Scott rolled his eyes, annoyed Miles wanted an update already when the e-mail dictating the assignment had only come out this morning. But God save him from people who were tech illiterate. Or, in Miles’s case, tech dumb.

S. Quinn: The audit is going to take the better part of a week to complete. If you allow me to bring in help from the IS pool, it can be completed in three days.

Ping.

M. Foltz: No, the data is sensitive. It requires the highest of clearances. Complete it as soon as possible. Send regular updates.

He scowled. Not only was this going to be another case where Miles took credit for all his hard work, but to complete it quickly would require more than a few nights of burning the midnight oil. His plans for the delectable Phoebe were being put on hold.

S. Quinn: I’ll do my best. There will be an initial report by the end of the day.

Fuck. Miles was really starting to get on his nerves. A low growl worked its way up through his throat while his nails scratched a set of grooves into the wood of his desk. Maybe it was time to be more proactive at home. To thin the herd.

“Ahem.”

Scott’s head jerked up to see Phoebe standing in his doorway with her eyebrows slightly furrowed. How much had she seen? Shit, how much had she heard? Because that growl was in no way human-sounding.

“I did knock.” Her voice was professional, but her face still indicated she had witnessed his less than human annoyance.

“Do you need something?” Scott cringed internally. His voice sounded sharp. Too sharp. Damn Miles.

She smiled with those fire-engine-red lips. They had him shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “Something’s wrong with my headset. It’s nothing but static. Do you have another one I can use?”

He wasn’t surprised. They worked for a multibillion-dollar conglomerate that provided substandard products for its departments. Scott got up from his desk to get one out of the supply cabinet. He always made sure to order the crap items in bulk for this very reason.

“Of course.” He grabbed a box with the right headset in it. “Here you go. Are you settling in okay?”

Phoebe gave him a genuine smile. “Yes, things have been great. I was worried I wouldn’t be cut out for this, but so far, so good.”

Scott blinked and had to yank his more animalistic instincts back. The attraction was strengthening so much, so it briefly stunned him. “I’m glad. Don’t hesitate to ask if you do need something.”

That earned him another smile before she returned to her desk to get to work. Shaking his head to clear the lust-filled fog she had caused, Scott returned to his desk. As he got back to work, a portion of his brain was dwelling on Phoebe and the best way to go about working his way into her life or her into his. 

Meet the Author:

M. A. Freeman lives near Wilmington, NC and never makes it to the beach. Any free time is consumed with books, either reading or writing. An avid traveller and self proclaimed geek, trips abroad and to cons such as DragonCon in Atlanta are always on the agenda. Currently working full time in healthcare and attending school to obtain a Master of Library and Information Science degree to compliment the Bachelor's of Arts in English and Creative Writing.

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New Book Release ~ A Wolf in Duke’s Clothing by Susanna Allen @SusannaAWriter @SourcebooksCasa #Wolf #Shifter #Romance ~ Shapeshifters of the Beau Monde, Book 1

 

A Wolf in Duke’s Clothing

by Susanna Allen

Publication Date: 4/27/2021

About the Book: 

A Duke in want of a wife… 

Alfred Blakesley, Duke of Lowell, has long been an enigma. No one dares to give a man of his status the cut direct, but there’s simply something not quite right about him. What would the society ladies say if they learned the truth—that the Duke of Lowell is a wolf shifter and the leader of a pack facing extinction if he doesn’t find his true love? So now he’s on the hunt…for a wife. 

Felicity Templeton has a goal of her own: to remain unwed until her twenty-fifth birthday, when she will inherit a significant fortune. But that all changes when she meets Alfred, the dashing duke who’s determined to have her for his very own…

Praise: 

“Sparkling wit, scrumptious chemistry!” —Grace Burrowes, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author

Meet the Author: 

Born in New Jersey, Susanna Allen moved to Ireland for twelve months — in 1998. Susan is living her life by the three Rs: reading, writing, and horseback riding, and can generally be found on her sofa with her e-reader; gazing out a window and thinking about made-up people; or cantering around in circles. She loves every minute of it! 

Purchase Links:

Amazon: https://amzn.to/3h1mShD

B&N: http://bit.ly/39Q39Ov

Apple: https://apple.co/3qBj49r

Kobo: https://bit.ly/3eOgFET

Bookshop: http://bit.ly/36S8bZ5

BAM: http://bit.ly/2Im0Zuy

Books2Read: https://bit.ly/3r3buU8

Read an Excerpt:

Following her first meal in Lowell Hall, Felicity and the duke retire to the drawing room for tea. Felicity refuses to marry the duke as they know nothing of one another; he calls her bluff and proceeds to inquire after her interests... 

 

“I sketch,” she allowed. “I am fond of drawing animals.” 

“Animals?” He pretended to scoff. “A lowly subject.” 

“I disagree. I find there is nothing nobler than the beasts of the field, the birds of the air. I admire their freedom to be themselves, despite many species having been domesticated by humans. I commend the way they take care of one another in their groups or herds.” She peeped at him, hesitant. “I speak of horses, in the main.” 

“There is little that is natural regarding man’s treatment of the horse.” 

“I do not disagree. Man owes civilization to horses and often repays them with mistreatment. I believe we can show true gratitude to the horse with conscientious husbandry. I believe our diligence in this matter will make the whole world a better place.” 

“A bleeding heart.” He was baiting her, of course, and her defense of creatures both great and small thrilled him to the core. 

“A beating heart, a heart that acknowledges the dignity of all sentient beings.” Her hazel eyes glowed like topaz with her passion. 

“Had they any will of their own, they would not allow themselves to become subjugated by us.” 

“I do not deny that there are many who would seek to subjugate so-called inferior creatures,” Felicity allowed, “but those who are sensitive will garner only the best from the animals in their care. If only we would learn from them.” 

“A radical, bleeding heart.” 

“Better a radical than one who stands by and does nothing. Better a bleeding heart than one that has turned to stone.” Miss Templeton scowled at him. “I know your kind, looking down on all around you, full of your position in life that was nothing more than an accident of breeding. Little separates you from the animals, Your Grace.” 

“Oh, very little indeed,” he agreed, struggling to keep his composure. “But come, such a fuss over mere animals.” 

“Mere animals?” She very nearly shrieked. 

He went to meet her fury. “For why would we, who have speech and independence, care for beasts of burden or common house pets?” 

“If it is speech that elevates us, only recall the numberless times that words have caused ill. Only think what is being said about me at this precise moment and tell me that language is something to be proud of.” Miss Templeton forgot herself so far as to fist her hands on her hips. “And as for free will? Those such as you, Your Grace,” she spat, imbuing a world of spite in his title, “those in the upper echelons of society may consider free will their birthright, but the majority do not have that luxury. Why must one species be found superior to the other? Why can we not live in harmony? Why must our own baser instincts cause our animals to be abused? How simple it would be to change our behavior, to make a difference.” 

“It is all well and good my dear, but one woman? Make a difference? In the larger world?” By the Goddess, whatever she wanted, he would ensure she achieved it. 

“Yes, one woman. One woman, who has the knowledge and the will. Knowledge and will are not the sole provinces of men.” 

“And what do you speak of, then?” he challenged. “Training house cats? Bringing dogs indoors?” 

“Well,” she hesitated. “Just for the sake of argument, mind. Horse breeding.” 

“A gentleman’s time-honored pursuit—” 

“A pursuit that has resulted in inbred mounts that, more often than not, do not live up to expectation and must be destroyed. Or result in unreliable beasts that end up hurting their riders or themselves.” Miss Templeton stood near enough to him to bite him on the chin. “All it would take is the cross of stock in such a way that would guarantee the best of both will out.” 

“But madam, how then would our equine friends acquire their mates?” Alfred inquired. “Do the studs apply to the fathers of the mares for the hands, or rather the hooves, of their intended?” He snuck a breath, inhaling her dudgeon, her ardency, her ferocity, and his wolf was like to howling at the full moon. 

“Do not be ridiculous.” 

“Or do they see, and scent, and take?” He leaned in, all but whispering in her ear. “Do they follow instincts unknown to anyone but the stallion and mare involved? Is it the stallion’s pursuit that inspires the mare or the mare’s willingness to be covered that inflames the stallion?” 

“You seek to discompose me.” She blushed but held his gaze. “You are mocking my beliefs. You are mocking me.” She turned to leave, and he stopped her with a hand on the slice of bare arm below her puffed sleeve and above her glove. “You mock me by keeping me here, as if the whole world would believe that you wanted me above all others. I will find a way to leave here and put this sham behind me.” 

He gripped her arm. “You will not leave me.” The dominatum rushed through him and once again had no effect on her whatsoever. “We will marry, and not only because it is what society will demand.” 

“You may force me to the altar.” Miss Templeton stuck out her chin in defiance. “But you cannot make me respond to the vows.” 

“What might you respond to?” He leaned in and ran his nose down her cheek, around her jaw. “This?” She shivered. “Ah, I do know something about you, after all—that a stroke on the cheek makes you tremble.” He breathed in her scent and breathed out, gently, against her neck. “I was merely playing devil’s advocate,” he crooned as he let his lips touch her earlobe. “It was not my intention to mock you. I find your passion quite…stimulating.” He felt her quiver, said, “Do pardon me,” and kissed her. 

 ***

Excerpted from A Duke in Wolf’s Clothing by Susanna Allen. © 2021 by Susanna Allen. Used with permission of the publisher, Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc. All rights reserved.

 

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