Can humans and werewolves coexist? Can they be friends, lovers, partners? Or is the wolf blood stronger than anything else?
Tensions are rising in the wolf pack, triggered by two werewolf/human relationships: Kirk and Leo, Conrad and Jake.
Jake isn’t going to let things slide anymore, not when Conrad could get hurt. Just as Conrad finally meets Kirk, Jake gets drawn into a deadly challenge…
Jake knows what he is: a motorcycle mechanic with a bad temper and no education beyond high school. A beautiful, wealthy art dealer like Conrad should be a million miles out of his reach.
But Conrad wants him, maybe even loves him, and Jake wants desperately to believe this is real. It’s not easy. It’s even harder to believe Conrad’s big secret: he’s a werewolf.
Determined to earn Jake’s trust, Conrad takes him to a meeting of the wolf pack. When the moon rises, Jake will see the truth for himself. But will that truth bring them closer together, or tear them apart?
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Working as a motorcycle mechanic, Jake meets his share of rich guys. Arrogant jerks, all of them, who only feed Jake’s bad temper.
But then he meets Conrad. Soft-spoken, elegant, wealthy Conrad, who asks Jake to remodel his vintage chopper…and asks him out to dinner, too.
Guys like Conrad don’t fall for guys like Jake. Everyone knows that.
Everyone except Conrad, apparently.
But then, just when things are going suspiciously well, Jake finds out that Conrad is a werewolf…
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When golden-haired prince Orpheus is stolen by a herd of male Centaurs, he soon learns how to satisfy their lust. But they keep coming back for more…
This gay erotica box set collects all three stories in the Taken By The Centaurs series:
Young prince Orpheus goes into the woods alone, to practice his singing. Surrounded by a herd of eager male Centaurs, he thinks they came to listen to his songs. And so they do – until Orpheus gives them wine. Then he finds out just how dangerous and depraved Centaurs really are.
Orpheus is their lovely blond plaything, their toy. But only Kinna, the huge powerful Centaur leader, decides which Centaur may use Orpheus for his pleasure. And some pleasures are reserved for Kinna alone.
Orpheus’s father, the King, wants his son back. And now Orpheus has to prove that he belongs to the Centaurs, and especially to Kinna, once and for all.
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After extensive training, golden-haired Prince Orpheus has become a willing servant to the herd of male Centaurs who stole him. He can’t get enough of servicing the muscular, powerful Centaurs, especially the Centaur leader, Kinna.
But Orpheus’s father, the King, wants his son back. And now Orpheus has to prove that he belongs to the Centaurs, once and for all…
Adult readers only! This 8.000 word gay erotic story contains explicit gay sex scenes. All characters are 18 or older.
This story follows Taken by the Centaurs and Used by the Centaurs, though it can be read as a standalone.
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Once, Orpheus was a Greek prince, the darling of the court, who loved to sing and play the lyre. Now, he belongs to the Centaurs who stole him.
He is their lovely blond plaything, their toy. But only Kinna, the huge, powerful Centaur leader, decides which Centaur may use Orpheus for his pleasure. And some pleasures are reserved for Kinna alone…
Adult readers only! This 8.000 word gay erotic story contains explicit gay sex scenes. All characters are 18 or older.
This story follows Taken by the Centaurs, though it can be read as a standalone.
Excerpt:
Orpheus sang on, letting his voice range high—the pure, clear notes sounded amazing, louder than ever before—and finally came to a stop, almost breathless, but feeling exhilarated.
The Centaurs cheered him, louder than before.
With a pang of worry, Orpheus saw that there were three flasks of wine in circulation now.
The Centaurs were celebrating by getting drunk, and that spelled danger. Wine drove them wild.
“Here, let the boy have some wine,” one of the Centaurs yelled, a young one named Xerxes. “He sang well!”
A leather flask was tossed in Orpheus’s direction, and he caught it. It smelled strongly of horse.
In truth, Orpheus was thirsty, and singing only made him more so. He took a quick swallow, then another, surprised at how good it was. It was a dark, strong wine that tasted rich enough to be poured at his father’s table. Whatever farmer they had raided must be rich.
Xerxes came closer. He was a brawny young Centaur with long dark brown hair, and there was a dragon tattooed on his chest. Reaching out, he tilted the flask of wine over Orpheus’s mouth, forcing him to swallow more. “Don’t stop now, boy!”
Orpheus sputtered, feeling the wine flood his throat and pool into his stomach.
He wasn’t used to drinking. His father would only let him have watered wine, even though Orpheus was an adult. His father still saw him as the youngest prince, the baby of the family, and probably always would.
Maybe that was why the wine tasted so good now. It tasted of things that were forbidden.
Finally Xerxes took the half-empty wine flask away, and Orpheus wiped his chin, aware that wine was dripping down his bare chest.
Another Centaur came up and called over his shoulder to Kinna, “Can I have him?”
Orpheus’s last swallow of wine went the wrong way. He coughed, desperately gasping for air.
“You are bold,” Kinna said in his deep, dark voice, sounding disapproving. “Very bold, Diodoros.”
“I thought you said we feast tonight?” Diodoros countered. He was smiling, but it looked somehow feral. “Then why not let me entertain myself?”
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Leo Travers, a young painter, is desperately in love with tall, dark, taciturn Kirk Anderson. He doesn’t even care if Kirk turns into a wolf every full moon. All Leo cares about is their future together.
Does Kirk want him only for now, or forever? Kirk isn’t saying, and Leo is afraid to ask and get his heart broken.
Then there’s the wolf pack living right next door. One of them is stalking Leo, and this werewolf won’t take no for an answer…
The third book in the gay werewolf romance series that started with Wolf Scent and Wolf Howl, Wolf Pack is 30.000 words long.
Excerpt:
Leo was half hidden behind an easel. He had set it up facing the stand of birches overlooking the valley below.
Kirk walked up to him, circling round behind him to see what Leo was seeing.
It was strange; as much as he loved the woods, he had never looked at them as a source of inspiration for art. He’d never even taken any photographs.
He’d seen tourists making sketches, of course. But–face it, Kirk–he hadn’t been interested. He had dismissed it out of hand as something silly that tourists did, like picking unripe berries or buying souvenir junk made in China.
Now that he saw what Leo was doing, it made him wonder where he had acquired such prejudices.
Not from his mother, surely. She had loved the arts, and even bought a couple paintings to hang in the cabin.
Maybe it came from his father’s side of the family; they were all relentlessly practical and down to earth, proud of their blue collar jobs and full of distrust for anything they didn’t know.
Kirk was pretty sure that his father John had never seen a museum from the inside until he met Marilee MacDougall, Kirk’s mother.
He saw that Leo was holding the brush up in the air, one eye squinted shut, and waited until he was finished with whatever he was doing; it seemed to require concentration.
Over Leo’s shoulder, Kirk peered at the painting.
It was clearly unfinished, but the color was astonishing. The birch leaves were almost more intense in the painting than in reality: a mesmerizing, glorious yellow edged with other, darker colors in the shadows. A patch of gold in the gloom.
Then Leo’s blond head turned and he smiled widely, a smile of such surpassing sweetness that it almost hurt to see.
“Hi,” Leo said.
Kirk found himself smiling back, probably looking like a lovestruck fool. “Hi.”
With one more step, he was close enough and bent over Leo to kiss him.
Leo’s head tilted up instantly, and their lips met. Warmth flooded Kirk’s belly, instant arousal that always seemed to happen when he was around Leo–
And then he took in Leo’s scent. Something he had deliberately waited to do, so he could let it flood his senses when Leo was within kissing reach–
Leo’s scent had changed.
Kirk rocked back.
He took a deep breath, almost choking on the harsh, metallic scent that surrounded Leo.
It was like being stabbed with a blade of ice. It sank deep into his heart, leaving no trace.
Erick.
Erick had been near Leo.
Close enough to touch Leo, close enough to leave his scent all over him.
And this despite the truce between Kirk and the wolf pack–the truce that stipulated that they weren’t allowed to enter his territory until the full moon.
Erick had broken the truce, deliberately, blatantly. And he had touched Leo with his bare hands.
I should strangle Erick for this.
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