autumndawn

Jasmine didn’t realize her friend Wiley was special until they were drawn into another world. Here Wiley is betrothed to the ruler of the Haunt, a wererace both dangerous and proud.

Keilor is the master of soldiers, a man few would cross, yet he’d never met a menace like the little brunette his princess calls friend. Will Jasmine find the portal home, or will she find a werewolf of her own?

The Charmer

Keilor slammed his sheathed blade down on his scarred and slightly dusty table, scattering stray papers with the slight breeze. “Bath!” he snarled, unbuckling his belt. The sound of splashing water immediately filled the room. He stalked towards the enormous tub, leaving a trail of clothes in his wake, and sank deeply into the steaming water. 


Little witch! Custom of her country or not, there had been no call to show such favoritism to a mere cadet. Now the fool was in love with her, and all the true suitors for her hand seethed with jealousy. Tomorrow might well degenerate into a blood bath, with all the warriors expecting to receive the prize of her lips. 


Certainly, the crowd had loved it. The Haunt were a highly sensual people, often given to strong emotion. With one touch of her mouth, Jasmine had elevated a lowly soldier–clearly not the match of any of the ten!—to the status of a hero. It would be a wonder if Seris didn’t develop an insufferable ego. 


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