Bad Alpha features a select collection of stories with
shifters so ruthless they will stop at nothing to protect their pack. These
aren't sugar-and-spice heroes. Our alphas are feared, inked, and don’t ask
questions first. They take what they want, never give in to their enemies, and
think love is for the weak—until they meet their mate. Are you ready to learn
how to tame a savage heart?
Dark Heart by Elyzabeth M. VaLey
The
world is changing. Vampires are coming out and they’re not remotely similar to
the sensual Hollywood portrait made of them. Little by little, Shifters are
being unmasked and integration is waning. Panic is spreading. The government is
losing control. Private agencies, such as SOA struggle to find a solution, but
as the darkness grows, can one even exist?
Ten
years ago, Daryl Jones lost his pack to a group of demon vampires. Since then,
he not only lost his will to battle for good, his life has become a spiral of
drinking, fighting and fucking anything in sight. In his opinion, a pretty
perfect existence. Until, he meets the new SOA representative sent to convince
him to go back to the lab. With mile long legs, a tight little ass and a smile
to kill for, when she offers him a bargain, how can he possibly refuse?
Silvia
Adams, has one mission: convince Daryl Jones to work for SOA again. The agency
needs him to get back into the lab and help develop a serum to neutralize the
growing number of vampires. She knew it wouldn’t be easy task, but with her job
on the line, she’ll do anything it takes, including, bargaining with the
shifter and surrendering to her deepest desires. Only problem is, she might
have bartered for more than she can handle.
Available at:
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Excerpt
Silvia had never seen
a man's face transform so fast. He'd gone from hungry predator to angry wolf in
a millisecond. She kept her eyes locked
on him as he swiveled in his chair and took a swig from his bottle. She fought
the urge to snort. Really? He was giving her the cold shoulder? One minute he'd
been staring at her mouth like he was going to kiss her and the next he was
drinking tequila like it was water.
“Mr. Jones."
"Get out of here,
sweetheart. Whatever your purpose is, you're not going to accomplish it, so I
suggest you get out before I finish this bottle and become the sadistic monster
I truly am."
Silvia swallowed. The
bitterness in his tone was almost painful to hear, but she wasn't here to pity
him or—she slightly shifted her weight, trying to eliminate the pressure in her
panties— fuck him. She was here to get him to cooperate with the agency, and by
all that was dear to her she'd do it.
"Whiskey on the
rocks, please." She called to the waiter and settled in the barstool next
to Daryl. Patiently, she waited for her drink. He ignored her or pretended to
ignore her. From what she knew about him and his kind, Daryl Jones was always
aware of what was going on around him.
When her drink arrived, she took a sip, crossed her legs and turned to
stare at him. He didn't budge, and it was for the best. Her heart was beating
at a ridiculous rate, and she knew it was much more than nerves. When she
accepted this task she'd anticipated it'd be hard. After all, others had tried
to talk Daryl into returning to the agency, but she hadn't foreseen just how
hard it was going to be. Daryl Jones was incredibly handsome. He was the type
of man women went weak in the knees for. Most men in their forties didn't look
anything like he did. To begin with, they did not dress in jeans and cutoff
black t-shirts. Nor did they have every inch of their arms tattooed. If it was rare
to find a young man with long hair, it was even stranger to meet one at Daryl's
age. His hair hung below his shoulders, with a few wisps of silver that only
added to his mysterious and badass air. He had his wrinkles, of course, but
they only added to his appeal. And then, there was the matter of his eyes. In
this dim light she couldn't tell if they were a light blue or altogether
silver.
Silvia took another
sip of her drink. His build was impressive, too, and she couldn't help
wondering how much of it was gym work and how much genetics. Not that it
mattered, had she met him elsewhere with another mission in mind, she would
have gladly fucked him. But today was not that day. Today she had to get him to
help them.
She uncrossed her legs
and shifted in her seat again. Not that her traitorous body was being any help.
Her damn pussy was wet just from looking at him. Her nipples felt tight and
sensitive against the material of her bra. And that jawline, barely dusted with
a five o'clock beard, had her imagining what it would be like to press her lips
to it.
"You gonna sit
there staring at me all day?"
About Elyzabeth M.
VaLey
Considered weird by normal standards –
what is normal anyway?- Elyzabeth M. VaLey enjoys making up songs about mundane
things, doodling stars and flowers on any blank sheet of paper, talking to her
Lab whenever he feigns interest and coming up with love stories to make readers
dream.From contemporary to historical or fantasy, she enjoys writing stories about good and evil, love and passion and all that comes in between happy ever after.
Stalk her at:
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Thank you for having me, Krista!
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