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.

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Update schedule: 3-4x a week

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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

"Get up." I nudge Penelope's shoulder with my foot. The textbooks scattered across her bed crinkle under her weight as she shifts.

"Five more minutes." She pulls the pillow over her head.

"We have class in thirty minutes."

A muffled groan emerges from beneath the Egyptian cotton. "Skip it."

"Can't. Professor Lancaster already thinks I'm some rich kid. Missing the first day won't help." But it's incredibly appealing.

Penelope rolls onto her back, red hair tangled around her face. Dark circles ring her eyes. "What time did we fall asleep?"

"Four? Maybe five?" The numbers on my phone blur together. My brain feels stuffed with cotton, heavy with magical theory and complex glyphs.

"Most of it." I pick up my textbook, the pages dog-eared and marked with sticky notes. "The basic concepts aren't too different from what I dealt with at work. Just more... thorough."

First Day