USA Today bestselling author

Tag: paranormal books (Page 7 of 15)

Summer reading list

Usually, it takes me several months to come up with a list of books I love and think you will too. But this has been a good reading season. So here are three werewolf books and a steampunk selection for your enjoyment.

The Last Wolf

My number one recommendation is Maria Vale’s The Last Wolf (and the sequel, which I thought was even better). The cover looks like such a run-of-the-mill shifter romance, but the story inside is deeply engrossing and unique. It’s beautiful in a way similar to Maggie Stiefvater’s Shiver, is steeped in Scandinavian lore, and is also lushly romantic. Do not start this book if you need to go to bed on time.

Alpha by Audrey Faye

Again, the cover does this book no favors. But Alpha by Audrey Faye is a deeply engrossing story about a wounded pack and the young alpha who resolves to fix them. And it’s FREE to borrow with Kindle Unlimited.

Storm Cursed

If you haven’t been living under a rock, you’ll know there’s a new Mercy Thompson book out. This one wasn’t my favorite, but Patricia Briggs’ worst book is better than pretty much anyone else’s best. Of course, you’ll want to start at the beginning rather than diving straight into Storm Cursed.

Saving Verity

Finally, if you’re willing to branch out beyond werewolves, Saving Verity is a steampunk mystery with a delightful scientist heroine and Druid detective. Again, this one is FREE to borrow if you subscribe to Kindle Unlimited.

Wolf Rampant Trilogy

And if that’s not quite enough, I’ve also marked down my Wolf Rampant Trilogy to 99 cents this week only. Snag it while it’s cheap, and happy reading!

What to read after Ilona Andrews

Ilona Andrews

Ilona Andrews is one of my favorite authors…or, actually, two of them. This husband/wife duo create the perfect blend of action, fantasy, and romance in their Kate Daniels (urban fantasy with a side of shifter), On the Edge (urban fantasy/paranormal romance mixture), Hidden Legacy (romantic urban fantasy with a witchy cast), and Innkeeper (sci-fi-ish/urban fantasy) series.

If you haven’t already, you should definitely read them all. But then what do you dive into? Here’s what some of their fans have to say:

Patricia Briggs gets the most votes (including mine!).

Anne Bishop is a close runnerup. It took me forever to look past the cover and try out her Others series. But when I did I was blown away!

Nalini Singh is a sister author if you like a little more romance.

And after that it’s a tossup of whether you should move on to Faith Hunter, Devon Monk, Seanan McGuire, Jim Butcher, Rachel Aaron, or Karen Marie Moning. Or any of the dozens of other authors whose books fill urban-fantasy bookshelves today.

In fact, it made my day when a reviewer compared my Moon Marked series (the first book of which is free) to Ilona Andrews. Maybe someday I’ll live up to that compliment! In the meantime, I’ll just keep reading their witty prose.

News, news, news!

Wolf Dreams excerptFirst of all, I realized I never explicitly told you that Wolf Dreams is live! If you’re on the fence about giving it a try, here are some reviews to change your mind:

A smart, educated, amazing lead female character with a few flaws…both funny and relatable — Summer Rain

Fast-paced and laced with mystery and suspense — Tamara Kasyan

Sparks fly as danger ensues in epic proportions — Kaye

Angst, drama, emotions and romance with a bit of mystery thrown in — Robin Smith

Full of excitement and humor and fun — LHill

My new favorite from Aimee Easterling — Shadowcat

Lone Wolf Dawn audiobook

If you’d rather listen rather than read, the second book in my Alpha Underground series is now available as an audiobook. My narrator tells me that book three will probably be out in June. (And, if you missed it, book one is available in audio as well.)

Shiftless cover timeline

Finally, don’t be shocked if you see Shiftless with a new cover. I’ve loved all of this book’s covers (with the possible exception of my homemade effort on the far left), but there’s a reason books get a facelift every few years. Readers who’ve decided they don’t want any part of a book might give it a try with a new cover, and styles change over time.

To cut a long story short, Shiftless has a new look and the rest of the series will soon as well. I hope you enjoy the update!

Wolf Dreams: Chapter 3

(If you’re starting on this page, please click here to return to the beginning so you don’t miss any of the story.)

Wolf Dreams“Then this isn’t yours.”

The words should have been a question, but they weren’t. Instead, they were a statement of ownership even as he slipped the silver chain that had recently been around his neck over my head.

The saber-tooth-cat fang tapped against my nose as it lowered from my forehead to my chin then continued its way downward. Calloused skin grazed my cheek as his hand retreated. And I couldn’t seem to stop my fingers from cupping the heavy artifact that seemed to burn through my sweater with borrowed heat.

“No, it’s not mine,” I answered, even though the fang felt right hanging there. Even though the weight around my neck seemed to lift me up rather than bowing me down.

The men on either side of me exchanged loaded glances. “She isn’t…” started Prince Charming.

“Doesn’t matter,” answered Mr. Wolf. Then, spearing me again with his unbreakable attention, he introduced both of them in rapid succession. “Claw.” This was himself. “Harry.” A thumb jab in the direction of the fairy-tale prince.

“Olivia,” I replied, somehow needing him to know my first name even though a second ago I’d been trying to rush him out the door.

“O-liv-ia,” he repeated, the word seductive and warm in his deep rumble. For a moment, we were suspended in the lull that followed. Then: “We need your help.”

Yes, anything. I wasn’t sure if that was me or the monster. But I somehow managed not to speak the words aloud.

As if responding to my caution, Claw raised his eyebrows at Harry. And the latter accepted the conversational ball as easily as he’d dropped it in the first place. “Ma’am, we work for the President.”

“Of the university?”

Adena cackled a throaty laugh at my confusion while Harry corrected me. “No. Of the nation. As you may have noticed, Jim Kelter…hasn’t been feeling quite himself.”

This made no sense. “I’m not a medical doctor,” I pointed out, although my gaze remained focused on Claw. “My PhD is in archaeology. I study cave paintings, ancient artifacts, and old bones.”

“Like this?” Claw’s finger almost grazed my breast as he tapped the fang he’d given me. But his motion was careful, calculated. Only air slid across my sweater to impact the underlying skin.

I shivered, knowing there was no point in explaining that a bone and a tooth were slightly different in molecular structure. No one would care about biochemistry when dealing with an erratic head of state.

“Yes,” I started. “But…”

“Then we need you.” Claw’s voice reverberated through my bones like the beat of a drum.

He smells like home, the monster inside me whispered, forcing my body to lean forward and inhale a deeper whiff of his woodsy scent.

And the monster’s mirroring of my own feelings slapped me back to reality. I couldn’t afford to be sidetracked by a sexual fancy that would send my mental health floundering.

Plus: “You look out for you,” my father was fond of saying. “Everyone else is doing the same.”

Our nation’s President had dozens—hundreds—of people on staff to ensure his well-being. I had myself…plus Adena when she felt like obeying my commands.

Rationally, I was making the right decision. So I wasn’t sure why it hurt so badly to deny Claw’s request.

“I’m afraid I can’t help,” I answered, snapping my fingers at the raven. She landed on my shoulder with the weight of disappointment, head swiveling to peer behind us as I strode out of the room.

***

There was a student waiting for me in the hallway when I headed back to campus to deal with my inherited mess after a quick stop home to swallow my meds and toss the cat tooth into my kitchen junk drawer. Adena had also demanded a bite to eat, and I’d changed my shoes because my feet were killing me. To cut a long story short, by the time I rounded the corner and found the freckled class perfectionist waiting for me, I was running quite a bit behind.

He was bundled up against the winter chill, head bowed in a manner that promised our interlude wouldn’t be brief. Still, I smiled and welcomed him. “Joe.”

“I know this isn’t your office hours….” The sixteen-year-old freshman started apologizing the moment I came into view.

“Don’t worry about it.” I dug for my keys in my bag then took a look through the narrow office-door window as I fumbled with the lock. Inside, the piles of my predecessor’s jumbled-together stuff looked taller than when I’d left them. Great.

I was a slob at home, but I liked my workspace tidy. So it had been a bit of a shock when I’d arrived at my office a week ago to find the room full of unlabeled artifacts related to Blackburn’s specialty—the first humans to grace the North American continent. There were stacks of scientific journals by the hundred on the same topic. And, off in one corner, an odd mass of wires and chemicals must have had something to do with a hobby; it certainly made no sense to my archaeological eye.

Even Adena’s perch had been shunted out of the main thoroughfare. The raven cawed annoyance at leaving the center of attention, but she still fluttered off my shoulder and onto her wooden foothold as I ushered Joe inside.

“Tell me about your paper,” I nudged him. The freshman was brilliant, but he required a fair amount of hand-holding. I had a feeling by the time he achieved the age of the average freshman, he would have grown into his own skin.

That happy day was two years in the future however. So I ignored my to-do list and prepared to hold some metaphorical hands.

Sure enough, the flood gates opened as soon as I gave him the opportunity. “I was thinking of delving into Native American petroglyphs.” His eyes sparkled as he lost track of his surroundings and traversed more familiar terrain—the inside of his own head. “Subtopic: form constants and the possible use of hallucinogens. I’d like to track down modern shamans to interview, but I doubt I’ll have time to speak with more than one or two.”

He glared at me then, frustrated that I’d given him less than a week to compile his magnum opus. I swallowed my amusement as I replied. “You do realize that when I said you needed secondary sources, I was referring to scientific articles? This isn’t a dissertation, Joe. This is only 25% of your grade in one class.”

“Yes,” he started. “But the material merits—”

We both glanced up as someone tapped on my open door.

***

Of course. Who else. Dr. Dick Duncan, nemesis and boss, hovered there, smirking.

“Dick,” I greeted him, hating the fact that Joe’s slender shoulders cowered the moment the department chair glanced in his direction. A good professor lifted up her students. Dr. Duncan got a kick out of knocking them down.

“Ah, you’re speaking to the boy genius.” He laughed, displaying teeth that were far more perfect than you’d expect from a man of his generation. Word on the street was that they were all fake…just like his interest in his students. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

“No, I was going.” Joe, who would gladly have talked archaeology for at least another half hour, stuffed his notebook in his bag so rapidly the pages bent over. Then he slid through the gap between Dick and the door jamb, the other professor not doing him the courtesy of coming inside to widen the space.

“Well?” I asked after the thuds of Joe’s footsteps had receded. I’d need to check on the boy later if I didn’t want a repeat of his first reaction paper, a one-paragraph assignment that he’d handed in two weeks late and twenty pages long.

“Just making sure you’re doing your job,” Dick answered, apparently ignorant of the irony of the situation. Then he wandered away without saying anything further, acting for all the world as if he’d had no purpose in entering other than hazing the young.

Frustrated, I stared after my boss for one long moment. Was this really the leadership the university wanted heading up our department? Unfortunately, as the youngest professor on the totem pole, there was nothing I could do about it. So I dismissed the annoyance and instead dove into the office-cleaning project I’d avoided for far too long.

I’m not sure when the hallway grew quiet, the last faculty members and students filtering away to their homes and dormitories. I just knew that when the last of Blackburn’s papers were picked through and separated into piles—photocopies to be discarded, notes to be filed, materials to be returned to the university library—the view outside my window had darkened into night.

I hadn’t meant to be here so late on the final day of the semester, and I could tell Adena was antsy after sitting on her perch for so long. I’d get her an egg out of the department refrigerator to tide her over and do just a little more filing. Then I’d find my way home….

But when I padded down the hall toward the main entrance, the sound of fingers clacking on a keyboard emerged out of the darkness. Past the entrance and down the corridor, now I was following a rectangle of light that spilled out into the hall.

The department office. Who would be inside at this hour? Poking my head around the corner cautiously, I wasn’t sure what I expected to see. But it certainly wasn’t the plump, middle-aged secretary bowed over her laptop with the intensity of a predator on the hunt.

“Hello,” I said, then jumped as Suzy slammed down the lid with all the force of a teenager caught watching pornography.

“Oh! Hello.” Her face was flushed, her eyes glassy. What exactly did she get up to in her office after dark?

“I just came by to grab a snack for Adena,” I said vaguely, motioning at the bird on my shoulder. “But I can take her home to feed her. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You’re not interrupting anything. I was just leaving. Here, let me get it for you.”

Despite Suzy’s more usual cadence, I hesitated in the doorway, not wanting to deal with further problems. After all, I could feel the monster coiled inside me, napping lightly after her exertions earlier in the day.

But Adena possessed none of my reservations. Flying off my shoulder, the raven landed on Suzy’s arm then began picking at the older woman’s shiny bracelets.

And Suzy reacted the way she always did. “What a charmer,” she cooed, scratching Adena’s neck once before opening the refrigerator door and pulling out one of the raw eggs she kept inside for my raven. But she didn’t offer to chat. Instead, she ejected me, locking up her office and trotting alongside as we headed down the hall.

“You should be careful going home,” she warned. “The students tell me there’s a big, black dog wandering around that scared a freshman out of her panties.”

There were always crazy stories on a college campus, so I shrugged off the unlikelihood of panty-dropping beasts. “You be careful too,” I answered vaguely. Then I froze, Adena’s egg slipping through my fingers, as I took in the jumble of white papers spread across what should have been a pristine, empty floor in front of my office door.

Want to keep reading? Wolf Dreams is available on all retailers. Thanks for joining Olivia on her adventure!

Wolf Dreams: Chapter 1

(If you’re starting on this page, please click here to return to the beginning so you don’t miss any of the story.)

Fourteen years later….

Wolf Dreams“From the stunning renditions of horses in French and Spanish caves…” I started, only to pause as words drifted toward me from the fifth row of the audience at my Friday morning lecture.

“…walked out of the Peace Summit,” one student murmured, provoking a rustle of interest from those sitting nearby.

“Well, could you really blame them?” asked a young man who’d never once bothered to answer an in-class question. “I mean, our President acted like a hoodlum. He punched the guy. In the nose.

Of all the times for current events to pop the collegiate bubble, I would have preferred it not to happen right before final exams during my first semester in a tenure-track job. Of course, I couldn’t really blame the kids for their lack of attention. I’d been so shaken by the news this morning that I’d forgotten my meds for the first time in months.

Still, I was supposed to be the authority figure here. “Excuse me,” I said, pushing my glasses up on my nose then glaring into the cluster of chattering students. “As fascinating as political drama might be, this course is focused on the past, not the present.”

“Then you focus, Dr. Oblivia,” a third student countered. “We don’t care about caves on the last day of the semester.”

The earlier whispers had been a minor annoyance, but this was outright insubordination. No wonder my pet raven—Adena—squawked her ire from the far corner of the room. She spread her wings as if preparing to protect me and I raised one finger in warning, holding my breath until the raven’s ruffled feathers smoothed back down and her attention wandered toward the clouds outside.

Of course, the backtalking student took advantage of my distraction to continue with her tirade. “This is a class, not a wander through a museum. Tell us what’s going to be on the test.”

Patricia Owens—congressman’s kid and troublemaker from head to toe—was spiky with amusement. She had classic good looks combined with edgy modern style, and she used the combination like a duelist’s sword. Now, rather than fading beneath my scowl as any right-minded twenty-two-year-old should have, she raised her eyebrows and glowered back.

No wonder the monster inside me surged awake the moment our gazes made contact. Images of teeth and blood and submissive students flooded my interior landscape, and I clenched my fists to push back the horror.

Clearing my throat, I used words rather than releasing my inner monster. “Ms. Owens,” I started. “If your sole interest lies with the test, please pick up a copy of the handout by the door on your way out and leave the rest of us in peace.”

Then I clicked to the next slide in my PowerPoint presentation, trying to ignore the way my vision tunneled even as a hum buzzed angrily through my mind. Here it came—part two of the craziness. First the monster, then the trance.

Clutching the podium, I whispered a silent rebuke to my brain chemistry: Not now. The department chair was just waiting to catch a slip in classroom protocol so he could write me up.

In desperation, I shot a glance at the ringleader of all my teaching problems. If she was sitting, the monster would subside and the vision would fade along with it….

Patricia had risen so she could sling a messenger bag across one shoulder. And that did it. The monster grabbed me. I’ll make her sit, it started.

No, wait, I countered, terrified by the way my muscles bunched without permission.

Then the trance responded by slapping us both into submission. The monster subsided and I fell backwards into the silence and the dark.

***

Okay, so perhaps silence was a bit of an overstatement. Sunlight was obscured by overhanging earth and rock, so even the drip of distant water became as loud as a roaring school bus. My feet scraped against pebbles while my breath echoed in the enclosed chamber. And my hand moved without conscious volition to uncover a smoldering coal housed within a tallow-filled lamp.

Light emerged slowly as the body I inhabited fed moss into the minuscule fire. I was here, but not here. Present inside this woman, but unable to do anything other than watch her actions unfold.

The first time this had happened, I’d been terrified. A mere child, I’d thought myself transported into a nightmare and had spent the entire trance struggling to get back out again. Now, though, I was an adult obsessed with archaeology. I could do nothing to hasten my return to the modern world, so I relaxed and took in every wonderful vision as a many-thousand-year-old cave painting gradually flickered into life.

Red and black animals danced across the rock wall before me. Today it was horses, so many horses, with one big bison smack dab in the center. It looked similar to the French cave I’d visited on a research expedition one year earlier, but with different paintings covering the curved and irregular walls.

Even though I knew this experience was merely my imagination playing tricks on me, I began taking mental notes the way I always did. Perfect curves made the animals lifelike, overlapping legs gave the illusion of three dimensions….

Distantly, I knew that my living body would be catatonic and terrifying to my students back in the lecture hall. Distantly, I accepted the psychiatrists’ assessment that these visions were nothing more than a rehashing of materials I’d pored over and studied ever since becoming obsessed with archaeology as a kid.

I knew all this…yet I didn’t care what I was missing in the real world as I gazed greedily at images that both did and didn’t match current scientific knowledge. My hands were speckled with red ochre—the cave person’s favorite pigment. Words I didn’t understand tripped off the woman’s tongue. Then she sucked up a mouthful of paint in preparation for spitting it back out onto the rock face.

Meanwhile, her hand rose to clasp fingers around the eight-inch-long fang that had hung around her neck for as long as I’d been visiting. As always, this single jarring element pushed me out of the daydream. “Saber-tooth cats are from the Americas,” I protested. “This type of cave art was made in Europe.”

Only then did I realize I was speaking aloud, the cave flickering away as a bevy of worried students clustered around me. Meanwhile, tapping against my forehead, was the exact same tooth I’d worn a moment earlier, this time threaded onto a modern metal chain.

***

“Dr. Blackburn, are you alright?”

The name being spoken wasn’t mine, but I didn’t swivel to correct the speaker behind me. Instead, it was the silent man attached to the fang that snagged my attention and refused to let it go.

Unlike the body I’d recently inhabited, this tooth bearer was male instead of female. His features were craggy, his gaze so piercing it made me shiver despite the room’s sub-tropical heat. And was that a thin but very obvious scar completely encircling his neck?

Vaguely, I noted another stranger roughly the same age—early thirties—moving forward as if to assist me. This was the speaker, the one who was even now attempting to create a pocket of breathing space with me at its center. I appreciated the gesture and might have settled back into it if the chatter of surrounding students hadn’t spurred me into action.

“Do you think she’s okay?”

“What happened? I wasn’t looking…”

“Somebody call 911.”

Hospital visits never led in good directions. My father had lost faith in my ability to amount to anything after one memorable hospital visit. It wasn’t such a long shot to think the university might come to the same conclusion if my boss realized I popped three-times-a-day, maximum-dose anxiety meds to silence the voices in my head.

So I found my way to my feet and stepped away from the man who hovered above me. Then I raised my voice and regained control of the class.

“Nobody call 911,” I countered, forcing out a laugh that sounded like a mix between a pack-a-day smoker and the last gasp of an ailing hyena. “That embarrassing display of brain freeze was simply the result of low blood sugar. If you learn nothing else from my class, please write this down—always eat a complete breakfast before going to work.”

I think I actually saw someone recording my words of wisdom at the edge of the mob of students, so I didn’t blame the craggy-faced stranger for his snort. This was the most amusing part about being a professor. At my best, these students thought I was some combination of their mother and an all-knowing soothsayer. It was only when I assigned homework that certain students lost the rose-tinted glasses they usually perched on the bridge of their nose.

Right now, unfortunately, I was far from my best, and rose-tinted glasses were in short supply in the classroom. Which meant it was time to truncate the final lecture and send these students away with the handout I’d offered to the class’s least pleasant member a few moments before.

“It’s been a pleasure teaching all of you,” I lied. “Have a wonderful holiday. Grab a paper from the stack on your way out.”

I tensed, fully expecting some reaction to the bombshell waiting for them on those handouts. But I wasn’t prepared for the volume of Patricia’s shriek.

Neither, apparently, were the strangers in my classroom. Because even as Patricia bellowed her disapproval of the final exam changing into a five-page paper, the more ordinary of the two men yanked aside his suit jacket, hand landing on a pistol that gleamed dully from a holster beneath his armpit.

Click here to head straight to chapter 2.

Wolf Dreams: Prologue

Olivia HartAre you ready to dive into a brand new adventure? Meet Olivia in this excerpt from Wolf Dreams….

***

Do you remember your first date? The rush of excitement. The fumbling awkwardness. The way the boy bent down for a kiss, prompting your teeth to bite all the way through his cheek.

The blood. The ensuing faintness that progressed into a prehistoric vision. The visit to the emergency room. The awfulness when your father arrived to pick you up.

Okay, maybe my experience wasn’t precisely average. Normal is not my middle name.

“Olivia Nicole Hart!” my father raged as he took in the red streaks smearing my face and the wildness of my dilated pupils. His hand lashed out just shy of striking me, and that danger provided my inner monster permission to steal my body a second time.

Don’t touch us, she hissed, her voice raspy within the confines of my body. Then she leapt at him—I mean, I leapt at him. Sometimes it’s confusing when my body does things I don’t ask it to do.

But it was my manicured fingernails that scraped a long welt of red down the side of my father’s cheek and neck. It was my teeth that bared as if they intended to rip out his throat.

Blackness hovered around me, the vision attempting to pull me under before I could commit patricide. As if it wasn’t bad enough that I housed a monster, I lost my entire grasp on reality every time the beast came to call.

But my father was ready for me. “Get in the car,” he demanded, voice so cold my feet scurried to obey him. And, just like that, monster and vision both released their holds.

I shivered as I attempted to clean up their messes ten minutes later. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered as we drove out of the city. I’d used up half a box of Kleenexes wiping blood off my body, but I still felt like I’d been rolling around in offal. “I didn’t mean to.”

“The doctors warned us what would happen if you didn’t take your medicine.” My father—or Dr. Hart, as he preferred to be called—didn’t bother turning down the radio while he berated me. Didn’t take his eyes off the road as he pulled the hated pill bottle out of his pocket and tossed it into my lap.

It landed with the weight of lost potential. The promise of dulling the world to protect me from my own animal nature.

No, my monster growled. Starbursts flickered at the corners of my vision.

Take two,” my father demanded.

I twisted off the lid and swallowed them dry.

Click here to head straight to chapter 1.

Aimee Easterling reading order

When I’ve read about 90% of the stories by a favorite author, I often get stuck trying to fill in the gaps. If that sounds like you, hopefully this page will help point you in the right direction. So, without further ado, recommended reading order:

(Books in parentheses are side stories. If you’re not a completionist and are not a fan of shorts, you can safely skip these.)

(Books in German/Bücher auf Deutsch)


ShiftlessWolf Rampant Trilogy: Terra’s series

Shiftless

(The Complete Bloodling Serial — Wolfie’s novel-length serial)

(Paradigm Shift — another short story from Wolfie’s point of view, included in the Hot Shift anthology)

(Scapegoat — Chase’s novelette, found in Street Spells and the Hot Shift anthology and available in audio)

(Pool Party — Chief Wilder’s tale, available by signing up for my newsletter and in the Hot Shift anthology)

Pack Princess

Alpha Ascendant

(The Tail End of Love — a short from Terra’s point of view, in the Hot Shift anthology)

(Bloodling Song — a different bloodling finds his voice in this flash fiction story, included in the Thirteenth Werewolf anthology and the Hot Shift anthology)


Half WolfAlpha Underground Trilogy: Fen’s series, minor spoilers for Wolf Rampant

(Tough as Nails — Fen’s prequel, originally part of the Beyond Secret Worlds anthology and now available in the Thirteenth Werewolf anthology and the Hot Shift anthology)

Half Wolf

(Dark Wolf Adrift — Hunter’s prequel novella)

Lone Wolf Dawn

Wolf Landing

(Yule Moon — five flash fiction stories, found in the Alpha Underground box set and in the Hot Shift anthology)

(Werewolf Recipe Swap — two recipes sent from Wolfie’s pack to Fen’s pack, in the Hot Shift anthology)

(When the Wolf Catches the Car — a link between Alpha Underground and Huntress Born, included in Wolf Landing and the Alpha Underground box set as well as in the Hot Shift anthology.)


Huntress BornWolf Legacy Quartet: Ember’s series; chronologically, this series is set after Moon Marked and before Moon Blind but I’m including it here in the order in which it was written and published; minor spoilers for Wolf Rampant

(First Blood — a link between Alpha Ascendant and Huntress Born, available to read on this website and part of the Hot Shift anthology)

(Hot Shift — Terra’s 50th birthday party, in the Hot Shift anthology)

Huntress Born

Huntress Bound

(In the Kitchen With Werewolves — short story about Ember’s childhood, available by signing up for my newsletter and in the Hot Shift anthology)

Rogue Huntress

(Macaroni Dreams — a peek into Sebastien’s history, available to read on this website and part of the Hot Shift anthology)

Huntress Unleashed

(Muffins & Moonlight — spoiler-filled short story involving Ember, told from the point of view of Claw in the Moon Blind series, available in Huntress Unleashed, in the Wolf Legacy Quartet, and part of the Hot Shift anthology)


Wolf's Pack

 

 

Wolf’s Pack is a massive box set that contains everything above this point. (Yes, extras too.) Due to its size, Wolf’s Pack is not available on Amazon, Hoopla, or on paper. But the box set is available in ebook form everywhere else.

Hot Shift & Other Stories includes all of the short stories above this point.

 

 

 

 


Wolf Dreams

 

Moon Blind Duology: Olivia’s series; minor spoilers for Wolf Legacy

Wolf Dreams

(First Sight — a newsletter-only scene from Claw’s point of view)

Moon Dancer

 

 

 

 


Matebranded

 

Rune Wolf: Elspeth’s series; no spoilers or overlapping characters (a great alternative entrance point!); Available in German/Auf Deutsch erhältlich

(Paws & Claus — a short story from Orion’s point of view)

Matebranded

Shadowmated

Packbound

Outpack

(Transit of Orion — a short story from Orion’s point of view, available in the Rune Wolf, Volume 2 omnibus)

(Off Leash — a short story from Hailey’s point of view, available as a bonus to newsletter subscribers)


Mate Market

 

 

Ghost Pack: Wren’s series; minor spoilers for Rune Wolf; Available in German/Auf Deutsch erhältlich

(Alpha’s Guide to Lost Wolves — a short story from Locke’s point of view)

Mate Market

Wolf Weaver

Bond Breaker

 

 


Wolf's BaneMoon Marked Trilogy: Mai’s series; no spoilers or overlapping characters (a great alternative entrance point!); Available in German/Auf Deutsch erhältlich

(Fox Hunt — prequel novella found in the A Dog’s Dinner & Other Stories anthology)

Wolf’s Bane

(Library Werewolf — flash fiction found in the A Dog’s Dinner & Other Stories anthology)

(Kira’s Tale — flash fiction found in the A Dog’s Dinner & Other Stories anthology)

Shadow Wolf

Fox Blood

(Outfoxed — 20 page bonus epilogue bundled into both Fox Blood and Moon Marked Trilogy ebooks. The story is also available as a standalone audiobook and paperback as well as in the A Dog’s Dinner & Other Stories anthology.)


Full Moon Saloon

No Fox Given Trilogy: Kira’s series; some spoilers for Moon Marked; Available in German/Auf Deutsch erhältlich

Full Moon Saloon

Rogue Moon

Moon Duel

(Slaying Solstice — a text exchange between Kira, Grub, and Mai, found in the A Dog’s Dinner & Other Stories anthology)

(The Alpha Puzzle & Broke Truck, Lost Pup — two short stories from Thom’s point of view, available as a standalone in audio and paperback, bundled into the No Fox Given collector’s edition hardback, and available as an ebook in the A Dog’s Dinner & Other Stories anthology)

(A Dog’s Dinner — short story from Pet’s point of view, can be read as a standalone but contains major spoilers for Moon Duel, available as a standalone in audio and paperback and available as an ebook in the A Dog’s Dinner & Other Stories anthology)

 


Wolf Trap

Time Bites Trilogy: Tru’s series; some spoilers for No Fox Given; Available in German/Auf Deutsch erhältlich

Wolf Trap

(Undelivered Correspondence — letters between Tru and Drake, found in the A Dog’s Dinner & Other Stories anthology)

Wolf’s Curse

(Family FTW — short story from Lynette’s point of view, found in the A Dog’s Dinner & Other Stories anthology)

Wolf’s Choice

(Epilogue from Jack’s point of view — found in the A Dog’s Dinner & Other Stories anthology)

 


Fox Pack by Aimee Easterling

 

 

Fox Pack is a massive box set that contains everything in the Moon Marked, No Fox Given, and Time Bites series. (Yes, extras too.) Due to its size, Fox Pack isn’t available on Amazon, Hoopla, or on paper. But the box set is available in ebook form everywhere else.

Meanwhile, if you’ve already read the novels and just want the shorts, you can find those in A Dog’s Dinner & Other Stories.

 

 

 

 


Moon Stalked

 

Moon-Crossed Wolves Trilogy: Honor’s series; no spoilers or overlapping characters (a great alternative entrance point!); Available in German/Auf Deutsch erhältlich

(Thirteenth Werewolf — available in the Thirteenth Werewolf anthology)

Moon Stalked

Alpha’s Hunt

Stray Shifter

(Reunion: Through Justice’s Eyes — newsletter-only bonus scene)

 


Moon Glamour

Samhain Shifters: standalone adventurous romances following side characters from other series; very minor spoilers as listed below

(Ambush — a scene included in the Shifter Secrets newsletter and the Fae Lights anthology, from Tank’s point of view with minor spoilers for the Moon Marked series)

Moon Glamour — Tank and Athena’s novel (very minor spoilers for the Moon Marked series)

(A Snowball’s Chance — short story from Rune’s point of view with minor spoilers for Moon Glamour, newsletter extra and also in the Fae Lights anthology)

Charmed Wolf — Tara and Rune’s novel (minor spoilers for Moon Glamour)

Fae Wolf — Storm and Ryder’s novel (minor spoilers for Charmed Wolf)

(Beastly — a standalone short story about an ordinary widow who shows up for a job interview and finds something extraordinary. Audio and paperback versions are available on retailer sites, ebook version included in the Hot Shift anthology.)

(Inappropriate — a bonus epilogue for Fae Wolf, included in the Fae Lights anthology)

(Fae Lights anthology – in addition to the three bonuses mentioned above, this collection includes three standalone short stories: Briar Moon, Small Change, and Second-Generation Changeling)


Seahorses & Sensibility

 

 

 

Disgraced Dukes: Neurodivergent Regency romance; no spoilers or overlapping characters to other series

Seahorses & Sensibility — Lydia and Dominic’s story

 

 

 

 

 


Incendiary Magic

 

Dragon Mage Chronicles: standalone dragon shifter romances; no spoilers or overlapping characters to other series

(Biological Clock — how plants came to take over the world; website flash fiction)

Incendiary Magic — Fee’s novella (was part of the Fire Kissed box set)

Verdant Magic — Amber’s novel

Cerulean Magic — Sabrina’s novel

(Flight of Fancy — I use a time machine to visit with the cast of the Dragon Mage Chronicles; website short story)

(Mop Magic — a wind witch finds her powers; available in the Thirteenth Werewolf anthology)

 


 

Fox Blood, Chapter 2 Scene 2

Fox Blood

If you’re just tuning in, be sure to start at the beginning….

“Kira.” The word emerged from both my and Gunner’s lips in perfect synchrony, but we didn’t have time to gaze meaningfully into each other’s eyes. Instead, I sprinted down the hallway, sword materializing in my hand in a blaze of blue-tinted glory even as Gunner rounded the corner three steps faster and dove into the melee of angry wolves.

Because, despite their alpha’s ultimatum moments earlier, two-thirds of the pack had donned their fur forms and turned their teeth into weapons the second they felt threatened. Those still human were more obedient but no less dangerous—they’d grabbed up cutlery, some of it as long as my forearm.

Meanwhile, the entire room smelled like a forgotten egg factory, the scent even worse here than it had been beside Edward in the hall. How did everyone manage to go against a direct order from their pack leader? Did Gunner forget to imbue his words with alpha compulsion? The questions hovered over me like a foul-smelling storm cloud. But I pushed premonitions aside, hunting for my sister instead.

There she was…then there she wasn’t as she shivered down into the red fur of her fox. Ever since Kira had melded with our mother’s star ball, she’d been unruly and snarky and prone to shifting at the drop of a hat. Which wasn’t helpful in the current situation…but the chain of events also meant that her unusual fur form hadn’t been what set the werewolves off.

So what…?

I waited only long enough to glimpse Tank—Gunner’s trusted second—tackling my sister and enfolding her in a werewolf burrito of protection before I thrust my way deeper into the crowd away from them. Because the growling mob wasn’t facing toward either me or Kira. Instead, they were pushing and shoving, trying to get into the kitchen, or perhaps through that to the dining room beyond.

Mindful of the fact that these were supposedly my pack mates, I used my elbows and knees rather than my weapon to open up a pathway. But it was slow going, teeth snapping and claws scraping as I pressed past. My favorite pair of jeans was going to be spaghetti by the time this was over…but on the plus side, Gunner would never know that Edward had been the one to leave a bruise on my upper arm.

With that heartening thought at the forefront, I thunked a werewolf on the nose with my sword hilt, taking advantage of the resulting pocket of space to press through the narrow doorway separating kitchen from living room. And my grin of triumph promptly faltered as I took in the scene on the other side.

Because there was a fox perched atop the stainless steel refrigerator. Its fur was puffed up like the pelt of a cornered cat while its body pressed back against the wall behind it. No wonder since a werewolf currently swiped toward it with human fingers, attempting to pull the stranger loose from its hiding place.

There were a dozen other werewolves in the room with a similar agenda. But I had interest only in the much smaller canine cowering above their heads. Because even though its fur was pitch black instead of blazing red like mine and my sister’s, I knew the moment our eyes made contact that this wasn’t any mere fox wandered in out of the forest who’d accidentally ended up in my new home.

No, this was a kitsune. A being the like of which I’d never met outside my own family. After all, what right-minded wild animal would willingly walk into a cottage full of wolves?

Want to find out what happens when Mai is faced with introducing a strange kitsune to Gunner’s pack? Keep reading via the retailer of your choice.

Fox Blood, Chapter 2 Scene 1

Fox BloodIf you’re just tuning in, be sure to start at the beginning….

“He’s besotted with you.”

The voice curling over my left shoulder sounded pleasant, but it wasn’t. Instead, my instincts screamed “Angry werewolf behind you. Careful!” one second before I swiveled around with a fake smile pasted on my lips.

“Edward. Left your posse behind, did you? Braving the scary kitsune all on your lonesome?”

Because the middle-aged male who’d been Gunner’s principal ally in the battle against Liam was apparently not my greatest supporter. Moments earlier, Edward had stood at the center of the huddle of unhappy shifters shooting angry glances in my direction. So the fact he’d come all the way across the room to engage me likely meant he had an ultimatum to drop on my head.

Meanwhile, the rotten-egg aroma that permeated my cottage was so strong now I could only conclude it emanated from this shifter. It couldn’t have been his signature aroma, however, or someone would have warned me about the foul stench.

“Bad choice of cologne,” I noted even as he grabbed my arm and drew me into the dimly lit hallway with a grasp so bruising I had to fight down a flinch.

“This pack is barely hanging together,” Edward growled as soon as we were out of easy earshot of the rest of the partygoers, not bothering to comment on my snarkiness about his scent. “Liam was important to us and now he’s gone. Ransom was an asshole, but the transition away from him is still difficult. We don’t need you here making things more complicated. If you love Gunner, you’ll leave him alone.”

I wanted to snipe right back…but, unfortunately, Edward hadn’t said anything I didn’t already believe to be truthful. On the other hand—“Gunner asked me to come here. So I came.”

As I spoke, I stared at the hand clenched around my arm until Edward realized what would happen if his pack leader saw the lines of parallel bruises welling up beneath his fingers. Reddening, he shrank back so rapidly I might as well have swiped at him with my sword.

“Shit,” the male muttered under his breath. “If he smells me on you, he’ll go berserk.”

This, at least, I was prepared for. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out an aerosol can of scent-reducing compound, spraying it liberally across my injured flesh.

“I’m not here to make your life difficult,” I said as I worked, the chemical drifting up my nose in the process so I had to pause and stifle a sneeze before I could go on. But then I returned to the most important business—clarifying my place within the Atwood pack. “I’m here to support Gunner,” I continued. “And if you care about the clan, you’ll let me get on with my task.”

Which was all very true even though the words sat between us like a lump of brussel sprouts on the plate of a picky toddler. If Edward wanted the Atwood clan to hang together, he’d make nice and pretend he didn’t have a bone to pick with the pack leader’s mate.

I could tell from his scent—no longer quite so harsh and astringent—that Edward had gotten the message. Unfortunately, werewolves have a hard time dropping a juicy bone. “What happened four months ago…”

“Was the fault of an Atwood werewolf,” I interjected, not wanting to remember the awful battle of wolf against wolf fueled by the kitsune magic of my dead mother. “I would never do anything to damage this pack.”

The vigor of belief added volume to what was meant to be a private conversation, and this time I really did wince as my words rang a little too loudly in the echoing hall. Shit. I’d intended to say my piece to Edward then let him propagate it through the pack at the speed of werewolf gossip. I hadn’t intended to create a scene.

Ignoring the shifter beside me, I swiveled just as I’d done while walking up the path with Kira. Unfortunately, this time I wasn’t lucky enough to find our surroundings devoid of life. Instead, a tall, broad-shouldered werewolf towered in the open doorway between hallway and living room, silhouetted against the light behind his back.

“Something the matter?” Gunner demanded, taking in our proximity, our stiff-legged anger, the strange floral overlay of the de-scenting compound.

“Of course not,” I lied. “Edward was just giving me the recipe for his famous lasagna.”

Grimacing in what was clearly meant to be a smile, the male in question played along. “The secret,” he offered, “is in the sauce.”

“Hmm,” Gunner started, far from satisfied. Only he had no time to debrief us further, because the living room behind him erupted into howls, growls, and one long, quavering scream.

Dive straight into the full book on the retailer of your choice or click here to continue reading online for free.

Fox Blood, Chapter 1 Scene 2

Fox Blood

If you’re just tuning in, be sure to start at the beginning….

The boxes were on the ground and my sword was clasped in white-knuckled fingers before several sets of hands—at least they were furless—yanked my sister into the death trap. But I was four steps too slow to prevent them from enfolding her into their midst.

Enfolding her…and flipping on the light switch to reveal smiling faces and party banners. Apparently my attempt to move in after sunset hadn’t been as secretive as I’d initially supposed.

“Surprise!” werewolves howled, only some of the voices human. Then a whoosh of displaced air warned me of Gunner’s presence half a second before a large hand tucked itself into the small of my back. He guided me through the doorway, my sword reluctantly dissolving into the magical ether even as I did my best to paste a pleased smile onto my face.

“I take it surprise parties aren’t your favorite,” Gunner huffed into my ear while his free hand massaged tension out of my neck muscles. And even though I was bound and determined to give Gunner every opportunity to rebuild his splintered pack without our relationship derailing his efforts, I still found myself swiveling so his guiding arm turned into half of a hug.

“No, I’m not generally a fan of surprise parties,” I agreed. “But I am glad to see you.” After all, it had been nearly three weeks since we’d spent more than five minutes in close proximity. No wonder his fingers on my bare skin acted like balm. I melted into his arms, forgetting my worries as I tilted my head back in preparation for a kiss.

Only, no kiss was forthcoming. Instead, Gunner released me and pulled a small notebook out of one pocket.

“I’ll be sure to remember that in case it comes up later,” he said. And even though cold air where warm hands used to be explained the sudden rise of goosebumps along my exposed forearms, my shiver was out of proportion to the chilliness of the night.

Blinking slowly to tamp down my frustration, I stood up on tiptoes to peer at Gunner’s notebook. And what he’d written returned the smile to my face. “My place tonight once Kira’s sleeping?”

No wonder he hadn’t wanted to even whisper the words in the midst of the pack where shifter ears were bound to overhear him. My cheeks heated even as my head snapped up to peruse the partygoers. Somehow I was positive every werewolf present had read Gunner’s words right alongside me….

But the crowd looked just like it had previously. Werewolves partying. Werewolves laughing. Werewolves muttering in dark corners about the kitsunes in their midst.

“Maybe,” I answered, trying to decide whether I trusted Atwood shifters enough to leave Kira alone in the cottage after night fell.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Gunner interrupted, raising his voice until it was loud enough to be heard at the far end of the overcrowded living room. “New rule—all disputes must be settled with blades hereafter. Tournament rules, to first blood.” Then, as someone near us complained that he knew nothing about blades, that swords were archaic. “If you need instruction, I recommend asking our new sword master for tips.”

Gunner’s hand settled against the small of my back, subtly pushing me forward. And once every eye was upon me—exactly what I’d hoped to avoid by taking the walk of shame with my sister—the pack leader added: “Don’t forget to pay her. Old Red needs new brakes.”

Then just like that, Gunner left me alone in a room full of werewolves with nowhere to hide and no choice but to follow him deeper in.

Dive straight into the full book on the retailer of your choice or click here to continue reading online for free.

« Older posts Newer posts »

© 2026 Aimee Easterling

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑