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Sunday Spotlight: Victoria Vallo and Marked

Welcome Victoria Vallo back to Sunday Spotlight. She's here to share a little about her recent release, MARKED. It's available on Kindle Unlimited and exclusive to Amazon.

Connor only wanted a one-night stand but woke up with a mate. He flees, a new life waiting for him at the end of the last leg of his journey.

Rhaegar won’t be satisfied with only one night. His mate chose to run, but Rhaegar intends to catch him. And when he does, he’ll make sure Connor never wants to run away again.

AMAZON

 Excerpt

Connor didn’t want to leave the warmth of Rhaegar’s arms, but he knew he needed to get moving before Rhaegar woke up. Much as he’d tried to resist the night before, the sexy alien shifter had been too hard to say no to. Connor hadn’t had sex in almost a year, and Rhaegar had helped him scratch that itch a hundred times better than he’d expected. His body was sore in all the right places and all the right ways.

The big alien still had Connor pressed close and wrapped in his arms, and Connor closed his eyes to enjoy the feel of warm, hard flesh a while longer. Unlike shifters from Earth, Rhaegar had little to no body hair. His skin was smooth and felt so perfect under Connor’s hands and against his own flesh. Connor let his fingers stray to the spot where the man had bitten him the night before. He could feel two small marks where the skin had been punctured, and he shuddered as he remembered Rhaegar biting him there. Nothing had ever sent such an erotic thrill through him before. To his surprise, he hadn’t been scared or even apprehensive when he felt Rhaegar’s teeth there. He knew it was one moment he’d never forget.

Connor felt lips kiss his fingers and then the flesh beneath.

I should’ve gotten up and left before he woke up. He was so possessive last night. He’ll want me to stay for breakfast, or even the rest of the day, and I need to get moving.

Connor rolled over and looked up into Rhaegar’s eyes, the only thing that gave away that Rhaegar wasn’t an ordinary man. At this proximity, Connor could see the diamond shape of his pupils, and when Rhaegar smiled, his green eyes literally glowed. He captured Connor’s mouth, and Connor didn’t have the will to resist. The man kissed him thoroughly and greedily, making Connor wish he could spend another day and night in his bed. But that simply wasn’t possible. He couldn’t risk the chance he had just for a fling that likely wouldn’t last more than a few days.

When Rhaegar broke the kiss, his lips went to the bite mark again. “I knew you were the one. When you asked me to bite you, I nearly came on the spot.”

The one? I better get out of here soon. I can’t have this guy following me around all day.

He remembered the moment more clearly now. Rhaegar had been taking him from behind, his cock lodged deep inside Connor, and he’d leaned over his body and raked his fangs over Connor’s flesh. That little taste of Rhaegar’s inner beast had excited Connor, and he’d asked Rhaegar to bite him. Rhaegar had gone still and asked him if he was sure, and Connor had begged him to do it.

“The feel of your fangs surprised me,” Connor said, smiling. “Do they drop when you’re excited?”

“Yes.” Rhaegar pulled him even closer, his cock rubbing against Connor.

Connor licked his lips, unable to stop himself from asking, “So, you were that turned on?” Rhaegar’s attraction to him proved intoxicating, and he moved just a little bit to really feel that cock pressing against him.

“Oh yes. Very much so. Your scent’s been driving me crazy since the moment we met. My beast was ravenous.” He kissed Connor’s cheek tenderly. “Now that you’re mine, he’s calmed a bit.”

Connor stopped smiling, lowering his eyes as if the statement made him feel shy. No more flirting. Gotta get the fuck out of here. Another round of sex will make it seem like I’m leading him on. Can’t risk dealing with an angry shifter. His mind raced as he tried to figure out how he’d get away. “How about a shower and some breakfast?” He tried to give his best smile as he raised his gaze back to Rhaegar’s.

Rhaegar’s hand moved over Connor’s chest and then back over the curve of his ass. “We probably should rinse off. You’re covered in my seed.” He leaned in and kissed Connor’s neck before licking him there. “Much as I love my scent all over you, I’m sure you’d like to freshen up.”

Connor nodded to the bathroom. “Get the shower going. I’ll order food.” He got out of bed as if it was all settled and went to the comm unit at the desk.

Rhaegar rose and slapped him on the ass. “Don’t take too long, but order lots of food. You’re going to need your strength.”

Connor tilted his head back for a kiss, and he made it count. Clingy as he might be, Rhaegar was the best lay he’d ever had, and Connor wouldn’t soon forget him or find another man to compare with him, not on any planet.

As soon as Rhaegar was in the other room, Connor grabbed his clothes and threw them on. He tiptoed to the door and was out it within thirty seconds. No one was around, so he bolted down the hallway. Luckily, Rhaegar didn’t know where Connor’s room was, so he made his way there to hide out until it was time to meet with the man who’d be taking him to his new life.

Connor stood by the door listening for about ten minutes, and then he double checked the lock and took a shower. He grew hard as he washed Rhaegar’s cum from his body. It was a little different from human cum, much thicker and also much better smelling. It almost had a floral scent to it, a sweetness that made Connor lick his lips at the memory of its taste.

It’s better this way. Possessive men are trouble, especially the alien ones. Humans were no longer rare, but there were still many races that had a fetish for them. Connor kind of wished he could’ve seen what Rhaegar looked like in his shifted form—he didn’t even know what type of shifter he was—but sticking around would’ve made it harder to get away from him.

“Now that you’re mine…”

The words drifted through his mind as he stroked himself. Rhaegar wouldn’t have been happy about Connor telling him that he was on his way to another galaxy and never coming back. An angry shifter was the last thing Connor needed, no matter how sexy and gorgeous he was.

Connor cried out as he came, surprised he had anything left to give after the night he’d had. Rhaegar had taken him three times, and then the shifter had sucked him off when Connor had insisted he was too sore for another round. And yet Rhaegar had still had more to give. A bit intimidated at the prospect of sucking Rhaegar’s huge cock, Connor had stroked Rhaegar as they kissed, and then he’d rubbed the alien’s cum all over himself after Rhaegar had spilled a huge load on his chest and stomach. Rhaegar had smiled down at him as he’d licked his fingers clean. His channel clenched, and he licked his lips again at the memory.

What has gotten into me? He was good, but damn. I have to get my head on straight. He might be keen on me being his for a week or two, but it would never last.

Connor got out of the shower and toweled off, avoiding his cock, which seemed to have superhuman stamina suddenly. The need to touch Rhaegar again persisted, and Connor threw himself down on the bed in hopes of getting some more sleep. He set an alarm in the room and on his mobile comm unit. Dylan had told him that the pilot taking him to Luda Prime was a stickler for punctuality, and since he was already giving Connor a hefty discount, he didn’t want to start out by getting the guy riled up.

COVER REVEAL: Cyborg, Project Zed, 7

COMING SOON!

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NEW RELEASE: Sacrificed to the Gods of Spring (Sacrificed, 4) by Kelex

Hurt while scouting for salvage on his ruined planet, Berke Rylan runs across two other travelers who offer help. Unaccustomed to accommodating strangers in a world of nothing, Berke is hesitant to accept. But when he passes out from blood loss, he has little choice.

He later awakens, healed and his resources unexpectedly refilled—with no signs of the kind strangers. Once he returns to the outpost he calls home, the gifts the strangers have given him cause more trouble than they might be worth.

The leader of the outpost demands to know where he received them, and Berke has no answer to give but the truth. He isn’t believed, and sentenced to die… a sacrifice to the gods of rebirth and life.

Sacrificed books do not need to be read in order... they are loosely based on similar worlds with similar themes.

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Sacrificed, Book 4

Copyright © 2018 by Kelex

Chapter One

Irishi, an Earth-like planet in decline

Berkeley “Berke” Rylan climbed through one of the building’s many broken windows, avoiding the jagged glass that remained along the edge. As soon as he stood inside, he dusted his hands off on his pants and gazed around the deteriorating structure, listening for anything moving within. He could only hear the steady beating of his own heart and the shallow breaths he took.

It was cooler inside, yet the heat was still near suffocating. Sweat dripped along his back and temple. He lifted the small canteen at his waist and drained the last few drops of it before shoving it back onto his belt.

Pale sunlight shone in through holes in the ceiling and the holes where windows had once hung. What little bit of glass was left was either shattered by the earthquakes, damaged by roving gangs, or clouded over by lingering dust from the sandstorms that came often came through. At some point—before the oceans and rivers had dried up—trees and foliage had made their claim. Dried dead branches wove here and there, a remnant of another time. From past experience, he knew one touch would make them deteriorate and blow away in the wind.

Once he was fairly certain no one else was there, he relaxed some. The light streaming in deepened the shadows, making it harder to see into the corners of the rooms. Berke took a few tentative steps, scanning the interior as best he could. His footfalls over the layer of fine debris echoed around the room.

As with the last three buildings he’d come into, there looked to be little left behind. Over the last decade, the building had likely been looted and combed over in the search for any resources—over and over again.

The place also smelled of urine and feces, so there was a chance someone, or something, was holing up in there. He made quick work of looking for items of value. Room by room he moved, hopeful there was something left behind that others hadn’t taken.

By the time he reached the last door, he came up short.

His stomach growled, hunger overtaking him. Berke knew there was a small piece of jerky left in his pack, but he was saving that for his dinner. After that, there was nothing else.

Unless he found something to trade.

Berke eyed the stairwell, knowing the building was unstable. A trip up could be catastrophic, so he rarely took the chance. His stomach clenched again, making him reconsider…

Before he could take one step, the ground began to tremble. Instead of heading up, he raced to the window he’d come in through. As he jumped out, he felt the slash of pain. Hitting the ground and rolling, a cry tore from his lips upon impact.

Berke moved his hand down to his ankle and brought back fingers coated in blood.

Fuck.

Before he could investigate any further, the building began to sway. Berke leapt to his feet and scrambled as quickly as he could with a wounded leg. A wall of concrete and metal fell in his direction. His heart thundered in his chest as he scrambled out of the way.

The rubble missed him by inches.

He fell back to his ass, breathing hard, and thankful he’d made it out alive.

After a moment, Berke sat up. Looking to his ankle and seeing his pants soaked with blood, he realized the question now was how long he’d remain alive. Even if he could make it back to the outpost, he could get an infection and it would only be a matter of weeks before he’d be dead.

Berke dug through his pack and found his spare canteen of water. There was little left. Either he washed his wound to protect against infection or he saved it so he didn’t die of dehydration.

He’d seen that death before and it wasn’t pretty.

Berke stared at the canteen a moment, trying to decide what to do.

“Maybe we can be of assistance?”

Berke’s head whipped up, and he quickly scrambled to his feet. Pain made him want to hiss… but he tried to hide the ache from the stranger. He reached for his knife and held it in his hand, ready for a fight.

Two huge men stood near, one much closer than the other.

How did they sneak up on me? Because I was more concerned with another lethal threat.

The closer of the two stood with his hands empty, palms up. “We mean you no harm.”

Berke looked between them. Both kept their hands up and where he could see them, but as hulking as they were it was hard to see them as anything but a threat. Returning his gaze to the first man. “What do you want?”

The stranger frowned. “I see you’re hurt. We can help.”

That frown… the look of concern… Berke narrowed his gaze. There was something… familiar about the man. He looked to the second. Yes, there was something familiar about them both. Searching his memory, he couldn’t recall where he’d seen them before.

Their size alone should’ve made them stand out in his memory. Berke wasn’t small. He stood eighteen hands tall… these men were easily twenty hands.

“I don’t need your help,” Berke said, his jaw clenched against the pain.

“If you don’t treat that cut, you could end up with a nasty infection.”

Berke eyed the strangers, his gaze moving between them. After it landed back on the closer man, he asked, “I don’t have anything of value for you to steal.”

“There’s nothing I want,” the man said with a smile. “Other than to help you… if you’ll let me.”

Give yourself to us.

Berke shook his head. Where had that thought come from? He shook his head, pushing the wayward thought from his mind. “Help? Not likely.”

“I know you’re not accustomed to the kindness of strangers… but we mean you no harm. There’s nothing you have we wish to steal. Your things… nor your life.”

Berke met the man’s stare… and he sucked in a gasp. There was something about him… something that made Berke want to give in.

Yet, that only made him warier.

“You’ll die without our help,” the man murmured, cocking his head to the side. “So, what do you have to lose?”

Berke eyed them both… they were clean. Well dressed. Well fed. They didn’t belong there.

“You have medicine?” he asked.

“A salve. Of my own creation,” the man said. “Not much medicine around anymore.” He pulled a pack from over his shoulder.

Berke jumped, lifting the knife.

“Relax… I’m just going to get the salve to show you.”

Berke’s heart raced, adrenaline shooting through his veins. He tightened his grip on the knife, hoping like hell he wouldn’t have to use it.

He would, if forced to.

There was already enough death and decay around. Berke never chose to add to it, unless there was no other choice.

Kill or be killed.

His gaze moved between them, his body tense and ready to jump.

The stranger lifted a tin from his pack and opened it. He showed the contents to Berke.

“And it can stop an infection?”

“It’s helped others before,” the stranger answered.

“You a doctor?”

The stranger smiled. “I’m a healer, of sorts.” The man looked down and knelt suddenly.

Berke’s gaze followed the man down.

His canteen.

Fuck! He didn’t have much water left as it was. If they took his canteen, he’d likely die of dehydration before he made it back to the outpost.

If I make it back to the outpost. “Giv—”

“Looks like you dropped this,” the stranger interrupted, handing over Berke’s canteen.

Berke stared at it a moment, ashamed that he’d assumed the worst. It could still be a trick. Luring me closer so they can kill me. 

Yet his gut told him that wouldn’t happen.

The stranger smiled slightly, and something unfurled in his mind. He still couldn’t quite remember why he knew this man…

“We mean you no harm,” the stranger repeated. “You’ll die without water. Please… take it.”

Berke met the man’s stare—his eyes an odd golden color, much like the hair on his hair and face. Inside those eyes, he saw no guile. No evil intent. A sense of comfort came over him, and Berke didn’t understand it. His defenses felt as if they were crumbling around him and he had no control over it.

He’s so beautiful.

Berke inwardly gasped. He’d never considered another man as handsome, but there was no denying it. This male’s masculine beauty was something to be admired. Praying he wasn’t making a mistake, he reached out and took the canteen.

The stranger backed away as Berke tossed the canteen into his pack.

“You’re losing a lot of blood. We need to get it stopped and cleaned,” the stranger added.

Berke narrowed his stare. He knew he needed help, but strangers were dangerous. He’d heard the tales of those who hunted other people as food. He didn’t like his odds. Two against one. They could easily overtake him, especially considering his current situation.

Could they be cannibals? 

The men did look awfully well fed. Berke was one of the best earners at the outpost and could still see some of his own ribs sticking out. I don’t have enough meat on my bones to make for food. They’d starve if they ate me.

“Where are you from?” Berke asked, looking between them. “There’s nothing around here for miles.”

The closer man smiled. “We have plenty of time to talk… while we work on that foot.”

“Ankle,” Berke corrected, swaying slightly. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

The guy cocked his head. “It looks pretty bad.”

Berke glanced down, saw the blood, and realized it was much worse than he had realized. Another wave of wooziness hit him. He lifted his stare, panic hitting him.

Calm down. Slow the heart. Slow the pumping…

He staggered a bit, the world shifting around him. His legs felt unsteady below him. The knife dropped from his hand.

The stranger raced closer, grabbing Berke as he fell.

“I’ve got you,” the man murmured as the world went sideways.

The other man moved in close, just behind them. Berke met the man’s gaze and felt a fluttering in his chest.

Who are they?

“Will he survive?” the second man asked.

“We got here just in time.”

“In time… for what?” Berke whispered.

The healer smiled at him. He lifted a hand to cup Berke’s cheek. “Sleep.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but lost the ability. Darkness took him.

READ MORE

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Sunday Spotlight - Bronwyn Heeley and Taking Control of My Werewolf

Welcome Bronwyn Heeley to Sunday Spotlight for the very first time! Bronwyn is here to share a bit from her new release Taking Control Of My Werewolf (Moonlit Wolves: Moon Struck #2)

Can a man create a new life in a town filled with werewolves?

Eamon is lost. After the loss of his husband, his life became a shell of itself. His only hope was fixing up his husband—uh, late husband’s—family home. What he didn’t expect was what he was about to find, and how it would change his life forever, if Eamon is willing to let go of the past and embrace the new life he was being given.

All Chris wanted was someone to see him, love him, but will any of that be achievable when Eamon’s destiny is more than either of them could possibly compete with?

Previously published, freshly re-written, reordered and lengthened

Series trigger warning: contains graphic violence/death, graphic sex and may have scenes depicting violence of children

LINKS: Payhip ǀ Amazon ǀ Draft2Digital ǀ Sea to Sky Books ǀ Kobo ǀ iBooks ǀ Smashwords ǀ Barnes and Nobel ǀ Goodreads

OTHER BOOKS IN SERIES: Forever With My Werewolf

EXCERPT: 

Eamon Collins, Dr. Collins to those under his care, was in free-fall. His life was over in all the ways that mattered. His lover had died and he had no one to look after. It might have seemed an odd thing, but Eamon needed the stability of looking after someone to tie him to the earth. He’d been walking around like a zombie in their house, not being able to move past his own grief. The months of isolation and solitude had proven that.

His handpicked family had allowed him to see how bad it’d gotten, descending on him in a rush of mouths and limbs, packing up his bag and sitting him in his car. It wouldn’t be too bad, a few weeks out west. Fresh air, blue skies, dry heat—would be good to clear his head, and wake him up. He hadn’t been hard to persuade, he’d understood on a professional level, but understanding and getting yourself back into the land of the living weren’t easy, he knew; he’d helped a lot of people over the span of his career come to terms with their own loss.

The adventure was taking him to a property owned by Patrick, his husband—late husband—who had left him everything he owned, which had been a lot more than Patrick had ever divulged. It had been another step into oblivion to realise things had been kept from him. Eamon had struggled with the fact that Patrick’s family hadn’t all turned their backs, like Eamon had thought. He’d always trod lightly over past events as he’d picked up Patrick who was crying on his parents’ front lawn, watching the first eighteen years of his life go up in flames. It had been the true beginning of them, and the ten years they’d shared together had flown from there.

With a sigh that seemed to help settle him back down, Eamon turned off the static-rambled radio and hit play on a CD. He had to concentrate on making his way down Victoria Pass, memories of times before when he and Patrick had hit the open road creeping in. Patrick had been a weekend driver, he loved settling into the car seat, passenger’s or driver’s, it didn’t matter, and heading off on an adventure. Nothing but the blacktop roads, higher speeds, with hours at their disposal. Eamon couldn’t help smiling at the memories. They’d had so many good years together, so many good memories they ate at Eamon’s heart. He didn’t know if they made him happy or sad. Didn’t know if the pain would ever go away. Wasn’t sure he ever wanted them to.

“Turn left in one hundred meters.”

AUTHOR BIO: I'll show you mine, if you'll show me yours... da da da da dum, author of LGBT+ genre romance

Serious I wanna know

Email me at beeheeley@gmail.com

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