Bewitching Winter Launches Today

Y’all, my 14-part series is launching book seven tomorrow, and it’s time for you to meet Comet! He is not the best, but they couldn’t all be great, right? He is important though.

I’m launching a new book in the series every 28 days in 2022, and the series will be complete on December 31st.

To celebrate cycle eight, stay with me because the three chapters of the book is below for you to read!

On a side, personal note, y’all! I am having a hell of a month. A death in the family (an absolutely heartbreaking one), my family got Covid, then I got an eye infection. Talk about painful.

Here’s hoping I got the year’s worth of pain out of the way over the last three weeks.

Anyways, enjoy the chapters!

Read the First Three Chapters Below!


Winter reminded herself to breathe. How had this part gotten more adrenaline inducing than standing on the precipice of battle? A half bottle of wine sat chilled in the fridge after Marsh, and she sucked it straight from the neck.

A small smile hit her lips with the reminder of his taste. He’d really bloomed while he was here, and she liked being the cause of it.

The knock at the door sent a tremor down her spine.

You’ve got this.

The door opened to a pouty and angular man with hair flowing and curling around his features. His dark complexion and smoky eyes were hypnotic. Magic practically swirled under his skin.

But the way he ogled her slammed her walls down, and his smile made her queasy.

“Hey, mami.” A soft and low voice meant to entice her.

It made her feel dirty. And not the good kind.

Crossing her arms, Winter narrowed a dark look at him. “Winter. I am not your sugar or your sweetheart or your darling or your bambi.”

He grinned at her. 

She led him to his room without proper introductions. This was Comet. She knew it because her father mentioned his name, and he followed her with a slow, easy gait. His key dangled in the air for him as he arrived.

Comet paused, undressing her with his gaze before taking the key.

Something about this guy did not feel right; as interesting as the parts of him were, the whole repelled her. So much for liking them all. “You better know how to feed and clean up after yourself.”

Winter stomped off to that slimy smile.

Back to her old tendencies then, but instead of hiding in the training room, she ran off to the paths and up the side of the mountain her home was built on. The climb burned through her muscles and lungs, and the view at the first stop reminded her so much of Basil. When he’d looked at her, it burned her with need.

This new guy…

Winter shuddered, like someone hid in her woods, watching her.

Her stomach sank at the thought of sleeping with him.

Fuck, couldn’t I hide in the woods during the full moon?

Brushing the sweat off her face and the hair back from her eyes, shame and weakness consumed Winter. She wouldn’t run, much more prone to beating an obstacle.

Anger made her hungry. Her old self, a comfortable personality to sink into, meant food and fighting. Jogging down the mountain path fueled her more than soothed her. Winter was ready to strike by the time she reached the kitchen.

Comet stood with one of her beers, dangling in front of his mouth. Smoky brown eyes slapped her with magic.

Nope. She did not like him.

And he stood barring the freezer.


Blinking slow at her, he straightened and stepped out of her way.

The freezer door almost slammed into his face, but Winter wrangled the frenzy inside and pulled her favorite—jalapeño peppers, which she paired with the spicy wings.

“So, what are we having…?”

He implied the endearment but didn’t say it directly.

Winter banged the frozen packages down on the counter and glared. “I’m not your maid or your mom. Feed yourself.”

“But I’m your guest.”

She stopped, giving him the sharpest part of her annoyance. “This is not my house. You are no one’s guest.”

Throwing her own meal into the oven, she pulled her new, frozen bottle of sweet tequila and cracked it open to embrace this silent stare down. Why did he seem so amused by her? 

He didn’t engage her verbally, but his gaze did. Somehow, alpha men didn’t recoil at her sweaty self. Maybe the pheromones ensnared them. Comet embodied the southwest beach bodies. The Nerthus clan roamed the edge of the country along the sand to the cliffs and the base of the mountains. He was a nomad, one of the artistic and magical kind: a moon necklace hung between the open collar of his shirt, metal rings with strong stones lined his hands, and a scarf tied around his wrist. Comet looked ready to play a trick on her.

When the oven beeped, she piled her food on two platters and took them to her room as his laugh followed her.


Damn. Good thing that woman was beautiful. They’d understated it. Half of it came from her attitude. Comet’s guts burned from the threat in her gaze; she wanted to cut him open and let his intestines spill over the floor. But if he had to mate for his family’s advancement, he was glad to have a beautiful woman as a prize. 

She’d take some finesse to manipulate, though. A female not concerned with vanity took half of his arsenal, but dominance and power might make her emotions fumble. Anger was a cinch to twist. Winter’s already crackled at the seams.

When she vacated the kitchen with two huge plates of food in hand, Comet turned to the cabinets to scrounge up his own meal. The fridge had plenty of prepared foods to make it easy. Ham, pickle, and rolls made for a filling lunch. Whoever made it packed the meat and veg with seasoning. Not as good as his Yaya’s, but nothing to spit at. 

The beer held new levels of flavor though, like nothing he’d ever tasted before. Would complimenting her on it win him any points? Not at this stage of the game.

Magic seemed to irk her, and Comet was brimming with it. He could play parlor tricks all day, distracting others with classic misdirection, especially in the human world. Not that he couldn’t pull one over on wolves or vampires or goblins alike, but he preferred simple diversions, especially when a pretty girl was around to flirt with because it always bothered Mihaela, his long-term on-again-off-again girlfriend.

Her anger wasn’t sharp like Winter’s. It was soft and underhanded, almost cold. She’d freeze him out and make him burn for her. Indifference instead of hatred was harder to suffer through, and she’d honed that weapon like a sword. It’s why he always went back.

Now, she had to deal with Comet being here, and he couldn’t wait for the change when he returned with the scent of his alpha on him. She’d have a meltdown, and it would be sexy as hell.

Magic sparked across his fingers as Winter traipsed into the kitchen with her empty plates, which spread a smile across his face. She wasn’t lady-like, which didn’t bother him one bit, but did it upset her?

“Ate all of that, did you?”

Her pause in the middle of the room, dishes aloft, honed a skilled glare of abominable hatred. “And?”

Comet raised his brow to needle her. “I’ve never seen a woman eat so much, just wish I’d gotten to witness it.”

Her plates clattered in the sink. “You’ll be here long enough.”

Oh, she didn’t sound happy about that. This avenue might work.

“Did you make the beer?”

The first plate thunked in the drainer, and the water roared, then the second platter thunked. Winter faced him. “I did. With my father.”

“And the tequila?”

“The tequila is mine, too.” Her ownership of it was obvious. 

“I like a female who can drink, unless she drinks me under the table.”

Her snort packed a punch. “Learn to hold your liquor.”

“I bet that works for you in the field with all of those men.” It clearly read as he’d intended by the way her eyes narrowed.

“It did.” Something darker lingered under the surface. Winter’s regret gnawed at her. 

Comet tucked that away for later. He’d get nowhere if he poked at the wound right now, and he wasn’t surprised when she clomped off again. Time to take advantage of the couch and extra-large TV. Luxury he never had but always wanted.


Winter avoided Comet as much as possible, and he didn’t seem too keen on chasing her, which was a blessing. The office became her sanctuary again, and she fell into books, thinking about Marsh. How easy it’d been when he was here. She missed reading while propped against his side.

The book in her hand depressed her. History usually did, written with the bias this had, but the information about Nerthus clan would help figure out how to deal with Comet. She hoped. Several chapters talked about their nomadic nature. Others delved into their trades. The clan broke in two centuries ago, part of them planted roots—literally—growing hops and oats and perfecting the process of brewing tasty and popular beer. That, she hadn’t known.

Oh, she did not want to invite him into the cellar to brew beer, but should she?

Groaning, Winter hated the thought of trying to bridge the obvious rift between them. Common ground and all. Ugh.

Not yet.

The other half of the Nerthus clan, the ones who roamed, were the more magical kind. That certainly pegged Comet. Was it his lifestyle that made him not take her and this situation seriously? Or was that merely him?

Did it really matter?

What was it about him that repulsed her?

Maybe how his comments implied her lack of lady-like behaviors? They certainly annoyed her, but Winter never pretended to be a lady. Ever.

Hunger distracted her reading, and she grumbled as much as her stomach did. Comet had a habit of hanging out in the kitchen and in front of the TV, as if he knew that’s where she preferred to relax.

This was going to be a long twenty-eight days.

Two days in, and it already felt like an eternity.

Bracing herself, Winter trudged down to refuel, and there he was, sitting in her spot.

Two trays of food went into the oven. She brewed coffee—enough for him to have some, but she wouldn’t serve him.

Winter snacked on sweet biscuits while she waited and ignored Comet’s gaze.

The coffee gave her something better to do with her hands, and she propped herself in the corner beside the oven to drink it. When the timer beeped, she heaped the fried food on her plate and settled onto an island stool to devour it.

He wanted to see her eat. Let him see her eat.

Winter closed her eyes to the poppers and the salty creaminess of the treat: the only thing that kept her from getting overly riled up by his attention or how it threatened to ruin her meal. Worse when he slunk off the couch to stand opposite her.

She pointed to the pot. “Coffee.”

Comet smiled.

Winter shoved food in her face, chewing obnoxiously to needle him.

His laugh made her skin crawl. “You eat like a caged beast.”

Another whole popper shoved into her mouth, and she chomped loudly, staring at him, daring him to keep talking. Two more slipped through her lips before his features danced in disbelief, and he turned to the sizzling coffee pot.

Not a single crumb was left when she finished, and Comet pursed his lips with the want to say something.


“You don’t look like you could eat it all.”

“Now, you’ve seen it.”

“And I was mistaken.”

“You were.”

“I’m sure your mother struggled to keep up with you when you were young.”

Winter stood, the stool scraping back in her haste. “Not at all. Amarok has an equally ravenous appetite.”

“Do you often compare yourself to your father rather than your mother?”


“Why is that?”

“Because I am most like him.” She didn’t actually believe that anymore. Her father had told her new stories over the last few months that made her realize just how much like her mother she was. “If you want to see why I eat so much, you can come take your beating.”

Dishes washed, Winter wound her way to the training room, and Comet followed.

She wished she hadn’t invited him, but it was better to get this over with.

Thirteen Clans. Thirteen Males. One prize.

Winter Jarl is the most notorious female warrior of her species. Her father is chief, and he’s dying, so he’s cashed in on a promise she made long ago: he’s setting her up with an alpha from each of the thirteen clans before she takes over his position.

Sentenced to a year of isolation, she will spend twenty-eight days alone with each man. By the end of it, Winter must choose one to stand beside her. 

The challenge? She must be in love to produce an heir. 

Cycle Eight: Bewitching Winter

This new alpha’s magic sets Winter on edge. Immune to his kind of influence, she resents his blatant attempts at manipulating her.

​Comet has never seen the kind of wealth and amenities the Jarl estate possesses. He plans to find a way to claim his prize and the riches for his own.

Jump into this intense paranormal erotica now and see who you want to win Winter’s heart.

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