Lenaleia

Nicole’s fiance cheated on her. So she did what any heartbroken girl might do—she drank, got bold, and hunted down a one-night stand.

With a werewolf.

A gorgeous, charismatic, too-sexy-for-his-own-good Alpha, to be precise.

But, of course, things can't ever go smoothly. Nicole ends up rejected like it's a bad fever dream. Cool. Fine. Whatever. She's had worse mornings.

Until her boyfriend turns up dead.

Now she’s the prime suspect, her one-night stand is the lead investigator, and fate is laughing in her face.

Oh—and did we mention the part where she has magic? Not the cute crystal-in-your-bra kind. The kind she's not supposed to talk about. The kind that gets noticed.

As the case unravels, so does Nicole’s carefully controlled life. Her powers are spiking. People are dying. And hidden conspiracies keep coming to light...

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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

I blink away the stars dancing at the edges of my vision. My body tingles from head to toe like I've been struck by lightning, but Logan's expression is what sends ice through my veins. Not cautious. Not confused. Outright horrified. Like I have a pig's face and horse's ass.

Before I can ask what's wrong, Brynn snaps her fingers, smug satisfaction radiating from her like heat from a furnace. Despite being thoroughly human(ish), I can practically smell the victory wafting from her direction.

A full-length mirror materializes from thin air, its ornate frame hovering upright just a few feet away. If there was a museum for old things (so basically, any museum), it would fit right into something from the Renaissance era or something.

I Don't Like It