Do you love love? You're in the right place.


*•.¸(`*•.¸(`*• IT’S LIVE •*´)¸.•*´)¸.•*´

The first Truly Yours book is out and ready for you.
An MPreg Shifter series.


Synopsis
Finding a shifter mate is tough. Dalton is open to love, but the few dates he's been on have been terrible. He's just about to give up on searching for happiness when a young shifter passes by him, providing hope that maybe this time he'll find love.

Toby has been hurt one too many times. He always picks the wrong men and doesn't believe he deserves anything better. When his best friend forces him to check out a shifter matchmaking service, he doesn't have any hope that things could work out for him. Because, why should Dalton be different than the others? 
However, fate knows better. And both men might be in for the shock of their lives.



Excerpt

“Hi, Toby. Nice to meet you. I’m Nathan.” The big guy shook my hand and smiled. His lean frame was about half a foot taller than mine. His light brown hair looked good with the simple, yet somehow stylish clothes. My cat immediately recognized him as an alpha…a jaguar? Wow, I hadn’t met many of them. I tried to recall whether I’d seen him at the meetings, but I came up blank. Either he didn’t attend the local meetings, or I hadn’t seen him. It wasn’t mandatory to turn up there, although most shifters came to check out the competition and look for a hookup.
“Please sit down, and let’s get started.”
I sighed inaudibly and dropped to the indicated chair. Let the fun begin.
Nathan sat down in front of me, with much more grace than I would’ve expected, but then, he was a cat. Usually, you didn’t use clumsy and cat in one sentence. He looked at me across the tidy desk and folded his hands. “Okay, so, the first step is that you fill out a form with lots of questions. That way, we’ll learn a bit about you and what you prefer. Then I might ask more questions to clarify whatever comes up. After we have your profile ready, we’ll use an algorithm that is a mix of computer science and instinct to match you up with another shifter. We might not find a perfect match on the first try, though. It takes time and patience, but so far, we’ve found quite a few true mates.” He smiled. “Are you ready?”
Not really. But you probably won’t be up for waiting until I am.
I forced my lips into a small smile. “Yes, let’s do this.” Damn you, Jason. Damn you. Nathan handed me a sheet of paper on a clipboard, and I went over the first questions:
Name, Age, Species, that was all pretty easy. I went to work, adding my contact information and general interests, then some more, like Job, Hobbies, Education. Those took a bit longer, but I scrawled the answers on the form.
Preferences was the last headline, with several points below. Do you prefer male or female shifters, or both? Well, that was easy. Are you alpha, beta, or omega? Wow, I wouldn’t have thought they’d go into so much detail. I was an omega, but I didn’t really get why they were asking. I either clicked with someone or I didn’t. Whether he was an alpha or not didn’t matter to me. Nevertheless, I wrote omega in the indicated line.
If you prefer men, are you more active or passive? What the fuck? My eyebrows shot up.
“Nathan…um, do you really need to know what I want to do in bed?” I asked quietly.
He looked up from whatever he’d been reading. “Yeah, Ryker added that a while ago since we had some clients who complained that they were set up with dates who were exclusively tops or bottoms. For some people, that was an absolute deal-breaker.
I couldn’t imagine letting someone go just because he was also a bottom. But then, if it was an absolutely incompatible match, I could see why it wouldn’t lead to a relationship. I wrote passive on the line, but then I looked up again. “I said above what I am, but isn’t it true that all alphas are tops and all omegas are passive?”
“You think? No, they’re not. Generally, yes, there is a clear tendency, but you can never be sure. I know alphas who love to bottom and want someone to take over the reins sometimes. I’ve also seen omegas who are more dominant than some alphas in the bedroom. So don’t be fooled by the status. Just because alphas outrank betas and omegas in society doesn’t mean they’re always dominant in the bedroom.”
Oh. I hadn’t known that. Well, I was a bottom and an omega all the way, so I needed someone who would take care of me. It was as simple as that. But I still seriously doubted they’d find someone here for me, so it was likely a moot point.
I handed the clipboard back to Nathan. He read it over, laid it on his desk, and then looked at me. “So, that was the first part. Thank you. Now, it’s time for the interesting questions. Tell me about yourself. Tell me about your dream date and your dream mate. Nothing is too silly or insane. If you could describe the perfect date, what would you do?”
“Hmm…” I closed my eyes. I hadn’t ever thought about it before. I considered telling him some bullshit, but lying to him wouldn’t help me. Oh, Jason, how I could kill you… “Let me think. I want to have…a good dinner. An interesting conversation, not world politics, but I don’t want to discuss football results either. Maybe we could go to a movie or to a concert, although I prefer pop or rock, nothing classical. Afterward, a stroll through the woods? Maybe some running so our animals could meet.”
“Okay, that sounds pretty good. Anything else? How would you like the evening to end? I mean, does your dream date end with a kiss because you like to take it slower, or do you head straight to the interesting stuff?”
Heat flushed over my face. This was definitely not what I would tell someone I’d just met.
“Can I refuse to answer that one?” I asked with an awkward laugh. More heat flushed my face, and I fiddled with a loose thread on my jeans.
“Of course, and I fully understand if you do, but we're simply trying to learn as much as possible. If you tell me you like to date ten times before you even think about kissing a guy, then I won't set you up with someone who thinks a date is wasted time unless you end up between the sheets with each other. We're doing our hardest to find your true mate, and if you give us as much information as possible, we can do our job better. That way, you won't have to suffer through dates who aren't your match. However, I know the questions are quite intimate, so I fully understand if you don't want to talk about it.”
He sounded sincere, and even though I really didn't like the question, I started thinking about it. What exactly did I want from a date? I usually went at the pace set by the men I dated, but I never really stopped to think about my wishes or needs. If they wanted sex, they usually got sex, if I liked them enough. It was like a chore I had to do. When we had a nice evening, we got to the sex part. It was as easy as that. Yes, I usually had some fun, and the sex was good, but…I’d never actually told someone I wanted to go home with them. Or not. I just took the easy path.
I ran a hand through my hair and exhaled then looked up to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry. Your question surprised me. I guess I like to have a good time, laugh with someone, and then see how the evening ends. I’m not opposed to getting intimate on the first date, but more than that, I simply want someone I can trust, someone who shows me he wants me, not just any warm body. I’d love to have a partner who has time for me, enjoys simply being with me, whether it’s an evening in front of the TV or a dinner and a nice conversation.” I stopped, face glowing. I hadn’t meant to get so deep into detail, but I figured since I was already there, I could tell the truth. “So, if you can find someone who does all that…”
“That sounds doable.” Nathan smiled at me, and I relaxed a bit.
“Okay, what else? Right, the fees. Sadly, there is no way around that.”
“Yeah, no worries. Just tell me.” I should’ve forced Jason into paying as revenge for dragging my ass in there, but it probably wasn’t worth the hassle.
I listened to Nathan telling me about the payments and stuff, all the while trying not to fantasize about how nice it would be to meet a guy who fit my requirements. There wasn’t someone out there for me, and I needed to stop dreaming about it. That didn’t stop me from wishing, though.
Even though I hated myself for getting my hopes up—which I absolutely refused to admit—I couldn’t stop the little glimmer of hope blossoming in my heart. Damn it. I was done with men. I didn’t need another one. They were all the same.

About Chris McHart
Chris McHart lives in Germany, with her husband, slave, Dom, partner in crime, and muse (all in one person, not even she's that kinky!). She loves her husband, men in kilts and Scotch Whisky. Her idea of a perfect evening is to curl up with her laptop and write (the other options are not suitable to post in public).
She also owns LGBT Romance Deals, a great newsletter with freebies, deals and hot releases.

More books by Chris McHart
Small Steps (Rainbow Awards Runner Up!)
Grenzen (Love in Germany #1)
Expanding Horizons (Love in Germany #2)
German books:
Italian books:

About Aria Grace

Born and raised in beautiful California, Aria enjoys the year round sunshine and laid back environment of the west coast. Her career started out in tech writing and web development and has evolved into all things marketing with fingers in everything related to book publishing.

She lives with her husband and two children and more pets than she can keep track of. Despite her crazy schedule, she loves the time she carves out to read and write. Whether it's on the beach or on the couch at 2am, she is a woman obsessed!

She loves to hear from readers so please feel free to drop her a note or visit her at www.ariagracebooks.com.

If you'd like to know when Aria's next book is coming out or where she'll be signing, join her mailing list at:
http://bit.ly/AriaGraceFanList

More M/M Romance books by Aria Grace:
More Than Friends series

Mile High Romance series
When Doves Cry (#10)


Learn more at www.AriaGraceBooks.com or become a kick ass fan and join my mailing list for updates and free book opportunities.


Many of us are blessed with good health, loving families and plenty of food on the table every night. But that's not the case for everyone. This holiday season, I've joined together with a few authors and a handful of dedicated readers to help a mom that is struggling to provide a nice Christmas for her boys. If you're out shopping and come across a toy or winter coat that you'd like to pick up for these kids, please consider doing so. And if you're shopping online and want to take advantage of free shipping to send an extra something to this family, the details are below.

Thank you so much for any help you can offer.

***

Mom is a member of "Girls Gone Writing" A Romance Reading Group on Facebook. She lives and works at a motel in Ohio with her two sons. She makes a modest salary but doesn't have much left over at the end of the month to provide her boys with the Christmas they deserve. The boys' dad is not in the picture so she is both mom and dad to these kids. And when I pressed her for what SHE wanted, she insisted there was nothing. Just that her kids could have a happy Christmas for once.

Marquis, 11

  • Needs winter clothes. Size Youth 18 in pants and shirts or adult small.
  • Underwear XL in boys or adult small
  • Shoes 8 1\2-9 wide width

Drew, 10

  • Winter clothes: 12H pants, 14-16 shirts,
  • Underwear in size Youth LG 
  • Size 7 in shoes

 Toys

 The things they are into are

  • Roblox
  • Minecraft 
  • Five nights at Freddy's
  • Teenage mutant ninja turtles
  • Wrestling
  • Super heroes
  • Legos
  • Weekly Bible study

Gift Cards They Could Use

  •  Walmart
  • Kroger
  •  Amazon

Dream Gift?

We asked the boys what they would want more than anything and they said:
  • Xbox with Dragonball Xenoverse
  • A tablet

And for Mom...

She doesn't want anything. But, I know she's an avid reader so any books (YA or Romance) would be appreciated. She has a tablet and can read ebooks on the kindle app. And I'm hoping to arrange a Kindle Unlimited subscription for her.

Do you want to help?

Contact me for shipping information. ariagracebooks@gmail.com
You can ship directly to me and I'll wrap (unless you send a wrapped gift) or you can send to Mom. She's able to accept packages at her work so we can ship directly to her and she'll wrap up anything received for the boys.

When Whiskey Stops Working #6

 

Amazon  |  Nook  |   iBooks  | Audible  |  iTunes Audiobook | Createspace Paperback


Excerpt:
 
“This one’s on me.” The man who’s been trying to catch my eye for the past twenty minutes covers my hand with his and waves down the bartender.
“Thanks, but I’ve got it.”
“No, really.” He gently squeezes my fingers for a second then releases his grip. “I insist.”
When the cute bartender with a black ponytail and bright baby blues appears in front of me, I roll my eyes and give him a slight nod. He glances at the dude next to me and winks before sliding another glass of Jameson across the bar. “Here ya go.” 
I almost wink back before catching myself. This guy is just working for his next tip. With a tip of my glass to the man beside me, I force a smile then take a long swallow. Tonight, I can be normal. I can pretend my life isn’t crumbling around me. I can be a regular customer in a bar, half-heartedly watching the Broncos get their asses whooped.
“Thanks,” I say after setting the glass down on the shiny bar.
“Sure.” He takes a draw from his beer without turning away from me. I can feel his stare burning a hole into the side of my face and it’s getting real old, real fast. “So, what’s your name?”
“Cooper.” No one ever accused me of being loquacious. And if they did, that was a long time ago.
Despite the heat from his gaze on my stubbled cheek, I don’t bother turning toward him. After another thirty seconds of silence, he holds his hand out in front of me. “I’m Ted.”
“Look.” I huff out a breath and lean back from the bar. “It’s good to meet you, Ted, but I’ve had a long day and I just want to sit here and watch the game.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He nods and shoves a plate of nachos toward me. “Of course. You just looked like you could use a friend.”
Yeah, that’s the understatement of the year. Drake is my best friend in the world, but he’s busy saving our company and rebuilding his own damn life. He doesn’t have time for me. Not that I want him to make time. Whenever he reaches out, I find excuses to avoid him.
It’s too hard to watch him put his life back together so easily while mine is cracking and splintering at every end.
I chuckle under my breath. “Yeah, well, that's part of the reason I just want a quiet night, you know.”
I look him in the eye, imploring him to understand what I'm saying. 

“Yeah, of course, man.” He turns to his own beer, and I'm grateful for the peace. Unfortunately, that only lasts for a few more minutes. As soon as the Niners get another touchdown, he turns to me. “Looks like tonight isn’t the night to be drowning yourself in a game.” 

I pretend not to hear him and keep my eyes locked on the screen mounted high on the wall. 

“I don't know if they're just cocky from last year's championship or what, but those guys look like a bunch of idiots out there.” 

The bartender appears, saving me from saying what I want to say to Ted. “Anything else?”

I spin around on the barstool and look out at the tables. Most have groups sitting at them but a few just have a single guy staring at the TV or his phone. Nowhere for me to escape. “Yeah, I'll have one more.” 

The hot burn of my liquid best friend helps to cool my annoyance at the bothersome dude sitting beside me. He continues with his one liners and annoying groans throughout the game…but it’s easy to ignore him with my mind starting to fog. The only thing I know for sure is my bartender, Jet, according to the customers that have approached him by name, seems to be amused by Ted’s interest in me. 

I’m not amused in the least, but if it makes Jet smile wide enough for that dimple under his eye to appear, then I can tolerate him for another few minutes.

The Broncos lose as expected, and I lift my arms up above my shoulder to stretch. My back is killing me from the tension I'm carrying all the time. 

“Can I close out?” I ask Jet when he walks past me. I try to keep my eyes on his dimple, but I can’t stop from glancing at his mouth now and then. 

“Sure thing.” He turns to the register and my eyes immediately lock on his round ass. He’s wearing tiny booty shorts that display his perfectly shaped muscles. The kind of muscles that could milk me dry without any effort at all. 

My gaze is still locked below his waist when he turns around. It takes me a second to realize I’m now staring at his crotch…and he’s watching me stare at his crotch. With a casual shake of my head, I redirect my eyes to the receipt he’s placed in front of me. Fifty-six bucks in whiskey and that’s not counting whatever Ted bought. How many does that make? 

Five? Six? More? 

Doesn’t matter. All that matters is the guilt is at bay and my smile is less forced as I do finally wink at the gorgeous bartender before standing up. “I’ll see ya around.”

“Hey, can I call you a cab?”

I shake my head and wave without turning back. “I’m good.”

Once my Uber has been ordered, I stand at the corner and breathe in the fresh air. Denver is beautiful in late spring and the cool breeze feels good on my flushed skin. Fortunately, Cedric, my driver, arrives in a white Malibu before the crisp air kills my buzz. I’m gonna need a foggy head if I have any hope of sleeping tonight.