Either she cures the Prince, or she is sold in marriage to a warrior she doesn’t love…


Brilliant scientist Surah, the half-human daughter of a royal concubine, endured the scorn of the gargoyle court growing up. She doesn’t care- the only warrior who matters is Malin, and she will cure his genetic disease if it kills her.


It very well may. Enemies at court threaten her life to stop her research- enemies who don’t want Prince Malin to reclaim his throne, or to see her as his mate and Princess. If she fails, he will lose his immortality and be trapped in human form forever… and die.


If she fails, her half-brother will sell her in marriage to the highest bidding warrior. But Malin will kill any warrior in court, winged or no, to prevent them from laying claim to his mate. Especially when she conceives his baby—the true Heir to the gargoyle throne.


This is a steamy paranormal shifter romance featuring hot, winged alpha males and a smart, strong heroine. With a futuristic flair, this is for readers who enjoy urban fantasy, dragon shifters (because hot men with wings are hot men with wings), surprise babies and stories with rich characters, meaningful relationships and plenty of action and adventure.

BOOK 2
BOOK 3

Malin captured Surah’s lips even as his free arm slid around her waist, pulling her as close as possible in the tight confines of the transport. His lips stroked hers, subtly lengthened fangs nipping at her mouth, just shy of drawing blood.


Surah shuddered, not bothering to control the movement. Malin’s lips were soft against hers, the skin smooth and slightly salty, in contrast to the hardness of his chest pressed against her softer curves. For once she felt free to show what she felt. What she wanted, and needed. But with freedom came doubt. She tore her mouth from Malin’s, hands rising to his chest.


“Malin, if you’re playing games with me….”


The gargoyle’s lip pulled up over a fang. “Am I the court jester? I am tired of the barrier between us. A barrier of our own making. Tonight, it comes down.”


“For how long?” Surah whispered.


Malin inhaled sharply, exhaled slowly, a steely look coming into his eyes. “For now. For always. Do you understand? I claim you as mine. There is no one else for me.”


The walk to her unit was silent. Their hands brushed, they walked that close. Surah wondered if Malin would change his mind, rethink this first consummation of a relationship they’d both foolishly denied for so many years now. And knew that thought was stupid. Malin didn’t change his mind, once he said it was made up. Ever.


As Surah pressed her palm against the plate to unlock the door, she turned to Malin. “If you’ve changed—”


The gargoyle stepped into Surah, forcing them to back up into the apartment. “Don’t insult me. What have I always said about making a decision?”


“Just do it,” Surah said, darkly. She remembered the advice well–usually given when she was too slow on a training field. And realized what a hypocrite Malin was. How long had the male avoided speaking of his feelings? She would have called him on it, but the look in Malin’s eyes warned her not to.


Malin slowly backed her into the couch, a large, plush leather sofa good for extended naps and, well…now, fucking, evidently.
“What kind of lover will you be?” she asked, voice unsteady. “Slow and gentle? Or hard and rough?”


He caressed her lips with his thumb, face impassive, eyes hot. “What kind of lover do you want?” Hooking a foot around her heel, Malin tumbled her onto the couch, covering Surah so that the view of the apartment was completely blocked out by the gargoyle lying atop her.


She smoothed her hands along the hardness of his chest, the muscles flexing under her touch, echoing the pulsing hardness pressing against her abdomen, evidence of a desire let loose to ravage. She lifted her head and tried to kiss Malin, craving the feel of his lips. Malin evaded the kiss, instead trailing the tip of his tongue along her throat, Surah tilting her head to give him better access.


“I know about Geza’s parties,” Malin said, mouth pressed against Surah’s ear. Hot breath wafted into the orifice; Surah shuddered, the air sending tingles along her spine, her clit sparking to life. Malin buried his hand in her hair, jerking her head back to look at Malin. “I know about the toys Geza delights in providing you.”


Surah stilled, her wandering hands clenching around Malin’s biceps. She’d never pretended to be a complete innocent. Geza’s sister had to remain virgin in case he wanted to marry her off, but her little brother wasn’t a complete hypocrite–he’d made sure she had plenty of lovers to choose from who knew how to provide pleasure without complete penetration “Malin, they meant nothing. It was only—”


Malin shook his head sharply. “I don’t care what you did then. But now–no more. I won’t be able to control my temper.”


“So you’ll be a jealous lover?” Surah asked, taunting him softly.


“Not be, am. And I am your mate, will be your husband, not just your lover.”


Surah’s hands resumed their leisurely explorations. Sliding under his shirt, she felt hot, silky smooth skin as perfect as a marble statue. Her stone lover.