Delicate Freakn' Flower – Naomi doesn’t want to follow tradition and settle down with a violence-loving, chest thumping shapeshifter. When fate makes her meet not one, but two mates, Naomi digs her heels in and refuses to give in without a fight. Can this delicate freakn’ flower unbend her prejudices enough to recognize she needs a pair of men who can handle her thorns – and her passion?

Jealous and Freakn' – For a long time now, Mitchell’s been avoiding Francine, his bratty sister’s friend. However, the girl who tortured him in his youth is all grown up, and when he sees her in the arms of another, a need to claim her overrides all his common sense. But he’s waited too long and fate has decided that he’s going to have to share. Can he accept that claiming Francine means living in a menage, or will his jealousy get in the way of happiness?

Already Freakn' Mated – Meeting the woman of his dreams would have worked a lot better if she didn’t already belong to another man. But Chris wasn’t about to let something like ‘until death do us part’ keep him from claiming his woman. He’ll do anything to win his mate, including throwing his attractive cousin at the pesky husband.

Freakn Out - Derrick is angry, and bitter, but with good reason. His army buddies should have left him to die instead of dragging him out of the rebel camp—and he meant drag. As if that wasn’t bad enough, fate just has to kick a wolf when he is down and send him the curvy and luscious Janine. 

Freakn’ Shifters is created by Eve Langlais, an eGlobal Creative Publishing Signed Author.


Freakn' Shifters

     "Cripple." The word stung, even if flung by leering men with thick beards and cruel eyes. Derrick's captors taunted him with the fact that they didn't have to chain Derrick like the other prisoners. Why chain the crippled man? It's not as if he can run away.


     How they liked to toss cruel barbs about his infirmity, their English broken and heavily accented. Yet the sneering jibes were easier to bear than the way they scored his body, dozens of small cuts, slices in his flesh, burn marks too, with wagers placed on how quick each one would heal. The fine lines didn't prove as painful as the yanking of his nails-one by fucking one. With guttural exclamations, they marveled when they realized they'd regrown by the next day. Damn my ability to heal.


     The pain was almost more than he could bear. More than any sane person could handle. He'd thought the agony of shifting a torturous thing, and yet that proved fleeting compared to this daily abuse of his body. 


Chapter 231