Lenaleia

Nicole d'Armand never expected to walk into her apartment and find her fiancé *bleep*-deep in another woman's lady bits. What's a girl to do?

Well, after obliterating an 18th-century Meissen vase, delivering a punch that would make a heavyweight boxer proud, and embarking on a night of raucous drinking, Nicole figures she might as well embrace the chaos.

But when alcohol and pheromones collide, her wild night spins into something unexpected... Like a ride on the Logan Everett express.

Which, naturally, leads to a whirlwind of its own: She's his fated mate. Because of course she is.

And he rejects her. Because of course he does.

Now embroiled in a mystery bigger than her post-breakup hangover, Nicole finds herself the prime suspect in a murder she didn't commit—no matter how tempting the thought might have been. And the only person who believes her innocence? The same guy who shot down the idea of being her fated mate. 

Great. Just what she needed: her love life is a crime scene, and the man stupid enough to let her go is holding her freedom in his hands.

--

Update schedule: 3-4x a week

--
This is a fated/rejected mates urban fantasy romance.

Content warning for: Nudity, more nudity, swear words, inappropriate humor, dead people, undead people, incomprehensible amounts of magic, too much supernatural whosits and whatsits, werewolves and all the fetishes that come with them, did I mention the nudity?, and a questionable level of sanity at times.

Pheromonal: One Night With the Alpha

"This steak could double as shoe leather." Penelope pokes at the gray slab of meat with her fork. "What a waste of a perfectly good cow."

The clink of dishes and running water provides background noise as Logan tackles our takeout mess. My own plate sits half-empty, the congealed pasta sauce a warning sign I should have heeded.

"You're the one who insisted on ordering from Joe's Diner." I flip through my Magical Theory textbook, the symbols swimming before my eyes. "Two-point-three stars on Yelp should have been our first clue."

"Those hole-in-the-wall places usually have the best food." She drops her fork with a clatter. "The greasier the spoon, the better the meal."

"Tell that to my questionable alfredo." My stomach lurches at the memory of its plastic-like consistency. "I'm just praying I don't wake up with food poisoning tomorrow. I have enough on my plate with these assignments."

Just a Casual Evening