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Taken By Beasts

A M/M Erotic Halloween Collection
$3.99
This collection contains five never before released, steamy paranormal stories of monsters and the innocent, handsome young men they call prey *cough* boyfriend, written by the mistress of dubcon, Sadie Sins. Inside you’ll find five unique storylines containing friends to lovers, straight to gay, mild BDSM, and even a few group, taboo moments. It has furry full moon transformations, haunted houses, Halloween parties, evil witches, horny sorcerers, sexy demons, a cat shifter in distress, the rare minotaur, a stalking vampire, and a pack of rude, trash talking werewolves that don’t take no for an answer. Not to mention, the promise of a happy, claw biting ending. This book will make you downright beg to be a victim.

Halloween has never been quite so naughty as when you’re Taken by Beasts.

18+ For explicit man on monster action, graphic language, breeding, growls, tears, and over 66,000 words of hot, sexy fun.
66,000+ wrds, Published October 28, 2016.
Heat level: XXX

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT TAKEN BY BEASTS

on June 17, 2017
This was a really sexually erotic series of stories that was full of the paranormal and very entertaining. Vampires, thralls, werewolves, magicians, shifters and mythical creatures..Menage’ is part of some of the stories and the sexual encounters are really hot. An excellent book. Would recommend it for anyone to read.
on October 30, 2016
Incredibly awesome, hot and steamy. Multiple books but all were well written erotic shorts, guaranteed to get you a little wet in the pants
on June 1, 2017

I love this story collection. It has five wonderful stories, each one taking place on Halloween night. If I have to pick a favorite, it is the final story in the collection, a werewolf story that intrigued me and pulled me in from word one. I just loved the way the story unfolded, so perfectly through dark and shadow, the main character so haunted by howls and laughter in the woods. The writing in this one was some of the best I’ve seen by this author. (cont…)

READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Sebastian stepped reluctantly down the dark street, hearing the sounds of happy children shrieking yards away as they rang doorbells and demanded candy. He would have driven to the store, but the roads were black and reflective from the cold rain that had been misting that evening and with all the kids milling around for Halloween, he was certain he’d end up running one of the idiots over. Totally by accident, no matter how annoying they were with their costumes and laughing and damn near happy ass lives.

He might be depressed. Not that he didn’t have good reason—He wasn’t one of those emo types that just hated life. Much.

Scowling, Sebastian kicked a wet maple leaf off of his sneaker, feeling the trickle of water get in through the hole in the sole. Perfect. Really perfect. His parents had sent him out to get more candy for the trick-or-treaters, but at this point, he was pretty sure they just wanted to get him out of the house so they wouldn’t have to watch him mope.

Gay. Claire Stevenson thought he was gay.

She hadn’t even been mean about it. She wasn’t the first person to call him gay but most people had done it while making fun of his sappy heart when it came to animals or the fact that he was short and thin and apparently that automatically made him girly. Whatever. He probably could have dismissed it if she had been bitchy and trying to make him feel like shit about himself. Not that the end result was much different. Because the girl he’d been dating for the last three months had just dumped him because she thought he was gay.

God, he hated his life.

You’re just, well, not that into me, Sebastian. It’s like you’re a best friend, not a boyfriend. I can’t make you want me the way I want you, and that’s really, well, terrible feeling to be with someone that doesn’t want me back.

No, she hadn’t been mean at all, but Claire had still managed to destroy him with one damn conversation. He had liked Claire forever. Sebastian couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t had a crush on her. Sure, he wasn’t the most romantic of guys—He’d never say he got butterflies or anything, but that didn’t mean he was gay. Sebastian was just really low key. Boring, if he was feeling down about it. Yeah, he was kind of boring—But not gay. He just didn’t get overly excited about stuff even if he had been crushing on Claire for ages now.

When I kiss you, it’s like, I dunno, wow for me. Really crazy and intense feeling. But you… I don’t think you feel much of anything at all.

God damn it, how could you even measure something like that? How could she just know she felt more than he did? It wasn’t like he was trying to compare or reach some goal of epic makeout sessions. He’d been dreaming about Claire forever, and the moment he finally had a shot at her, he had wanted to take things slow. You know, build a foundation between them. Prove that they could be a long term thing. All of his previous girlfriends had been more like a week to week trial with a whole lot of empty space in between, but with Claire, Sebastian had wanted things to be different.

Well, in a way, they had been, hadn’t they? Instead of being dumped for being too weird or distant, Claire had decided he really just wanted dick. Right after they had been kissing, at that.

He didn’t think he was a bad kisser. He got self-conscious a lot, especially if anyone could be around and see him, but when he did kiss, he thought he was kissing with all his heart. How could she think he didn’t feel just as much for her as she did him? Who even got to say how much you were supposed to feel for someone for it to be officially enough? Hadn’t he like, talked to her every day on the phone and tried to see her every moment he could? Hadn’t he gone out of his way to keep his schedule open around his job and college and her classes to take her out whenever she wanted? How could he do so much and have her think he didn’t feel anything for her? What the fuck else was he supposed to feel?

Fuck, was he supposed to feel something else?

Sebastian growled, his left foot landing hard in an unseen puddle and sloshing up his jean leg, the material immediately soaked. “Fucker.” He hopped, but the damage had been done, his sneaker now squishing with every new step he took, the wet shoe slipping on soggy leaves and concrete alike.

It was an extremely irritating internal monolog, one that didn’t seem to have any answers forthcoming. Sebastian didn’t know if he was feeling enough—He didn’t even know what the fuck he was supposed to feel. He had trusted his feelings this far. Finally, with a girl Sebastian had thought to one day want to marry, she had told him he wasn’t feeling anything at all. And the truth of it was, Sebastian wasn’t fully confident he was feeling everything he was supposed to.

Movies would have him believe he needed to make grand romantic gestures and last-second dashes to airports to show how much he cared. Real life wasn’t like that. At least, his real life wasn’t like that. He wasn’t the type to go rent out an ice skating rink for a romantic date or send twelve dozen roses for the week of Valentine’s Day. He didn’t feel the need to write a book of poetry for how Claire looked in the morning light. He wasn’t the type to want to slice his wrists just because the girl he’d been crushing on had dumped him. For real, who the fuck did that? That wasn’t love; that was just a total chemical imbalance of insanity…

Right?

Running a hand through his damp, black bangs, Sebastian sighed weakly as the line of convenience stores came into view. The small strip mall was lit up in neon oranges, purples, and reds for the holiday, calling customers in from the clammy, wet night with the promise of shelter and heat. He quickened his pace, ignoring the slosh of his sneaker with each frozen step.

God, was he like an unfeeling, dead-hearted idiot and just didn’t know it? Should he be, like, thinking about jumping off a bridge or something because Claire was never going to be with him? Hadn’t he been planning a life with this girl? She was funny, smart, cute, and just all around perfect. Sebastian had friends that acted like if they were dumped, their life was ending. Was he seriously wondering if he was supposed to feel love an entirely different way?

And just who the fuck decided what you were supposed to feel anyways!

He really didn’t know, and the lack of answers was beyond frustrating. Because if he didn’t know, how the hell could he change it? Did he want to change it? Did he need to conform to some level of ‘feeling’ or be forced to accept that he was doomed to be alone for the rest of his life?

Would being alone be better when he wouldn’t be judging himself on how much he was failing to feel for someone he supposedly loved or damn near loved?

Being dumped by Claire didn’t have Sebastian wanting to kill himself, but trying to figure this particular problem out was definitely getting him thinking about a sturdy plastic bag with no air holes.

Jesus, fucking girls. Dictating how he was supposed to feel while in the same breath telling him he wasn’t doing it right. He had felt just as much for Claire as he was meant to feel, or was at least capable of feeling. It might not have been enough for her, but it had been to the best of his damn ability at the time. He sure as fuck hadn’t felt that much for a guy before. Just because he hadn’t lost it over Claire didn’t mean he was gay.

***

He left the warm lights of the convenience store behind him with two bags of candy and an impulsive—but decidedly needed—six-pack in hand. Sebastian’s mood only grew worse when he found the mist that had surrounded him on the walk to the store had turned into a light drizzle that was quickly threatening to grow into a miserable downpour. He hunched forward in his hoodie, the sweatshirt material doing little to protect him from the freezing water and chill wind of approaching winter.

He was full of dread at the idea of going home and having to face his parents’ well-meaning yet completely unhelpful comments as to why things hadn’t worked out with Claire. They kept pushing for him—none too subtly, at that—to move into a dorm or apartment with a group of students his own age. So he could be more sociable. As loathe as he was to have to surround himself with a bunch of loud peers while at the same time losing any ability to fill his savings account, he was starting to consider it if only to avoid the ever increasingly awkward conversations of why he was still single and just couldn’t find the right girl.

As he slipped on slick leaves in the dark, leaning sideways against the wind while standing on the sidewalk, Sebastion began to contemplate his parents’ parting words before he had left the house half an hour ago. Maybe they had been suggesting something else when saying he hadn’t met the ‘right girl’ yet. Maybe they were saying he shouldn’t be expecting to fall for a girl at all…

Did everyone think he was gay just because he’d been unlucky in love?

The sound of crunching tires hitting leaves behind him caught his attention. Sebastian immediately stepped as far from the street as the sidewalk would allow, his expression growing stormy when he heard a puddle splash and felt a fresh spray of water as the vehicle roared past.

“Asshole!” He growled, raising his hand holding the bag full of candy while ineffectively wiping the side of his face that had gotten caught in the deluge of dirty water. He glared after the fading red taillights, glad that the rain had at least driven most of the trick-or-treaters inside so they wouldn’t have to deal with the same fate. Shaking himself off, he forced his frozen feet forward, quietly contemplating just who had insisted on Halloween being so late in the season when the weather was always so cold.

He was going to go home, lock himself in his bedroom, and drink himself to sleep. Not because he was depressed over Claire—no, apparently he still couldn’t work up enough emotion for that—but because he was so fucking annoyed by being told he didn’t know how to feel. He knew how to feel. He did it every fucking day. And if that wasn’t good enough, well, too fucking bad for Claire.

Somehow feeling more empowered in his anger even though he was still absolutely lost on what the fuck Claire had been trying to tell him, Sebastian splashed through puddles and piles of colorful, rain-drenched leaves until he reached the familiar streets of his neighborhood. The rain had only increased and his steps sped up in response, his sweatshirt soaked through and bangs now dripping into his green eyes, obscuring his vision. Which was why, when headlights suddenly flashed and Sebastian caught sight of a small, hunched body in the middle of the road, without thinking he immediately dashed forward.

A horn blared startling loud, the tires to Mr. Walden’s sedan shrieking on the wet pavement when the man slammed on his brakes to avoid Sebastian’s poorly lit form. He barely noticed, his gaze fixed on the middle of the road where a child’s plastic pumpkin treat holder was tipped upside down, candy scattered on the ground all around it. But where he had thought he had seen the body of a person, a drenched, wide-eyed black cat looked up at him, it’s fur matted to its trembling body.

“Sebastian! Are you out of your damn mind, boy? You could have been killed!” Rolling his window down roughly, the older man squinted into the rain, trying to see past Sebastian’s knees illuminated by his headlights. “Oh, hell, don’t tell me that’s a…”

“It’s a cat,” Sebastian said, wonder and warmth filling his voice in equal proportions as he bent down and offered the back of his hand to the small creature’s delicate nose. “I think he was eating the candy.” He had never known a cat to eat candy, but with the torn wrappers under the cat’s paw, he was pretty sure that was what it was doing.

Scowling with a mix of annoyance and relief to find that there was no child crumpled under the wheels of his car, Mr. Walden revved his engine impatiently. “Come on, get out of the street. Whatever it’s doing, the road is no place for it or you. Especially in this rain.”

Eyes of impossible periwinkle depths stared up into his. Crouching down, Sebastian held his hands out, the frail looking cat following the movement with its head warily. “You cold, little guy?” Sebastian crooned, carefully scratching behind a bedraggled ear. When no bite or hiss came, he edged closer, cautiously wrapping his arms around the cat’s body but not lifting just yet. “I’m going to get you out of this rain, okay? My home is nice and warm and you won’t have to worry about being run over.”

Taking the silence and trembling of the small form as permission, Sebastian carefully tightened his arms until the black cat was in his embrace. He stood slowly, hooking the plastic handle of the pumpkin with him so no kid would wander into the road to try and rescue it as well. He ignored Mr. Walden’s eyeroll—the man was clearly not as impressed by a pathetic, shivering, soaking wet cat as he was—and slowly walked his new friend to the sidewalk where they could both be safe.

“Do you have a collar, pretty?” He asked softly, gently scratching beneath the cat’s chin until it tilted its face up to reveal that it was indeed collarless. But even though the cat was bedraggled and scavenging for food, Sebastian was certain it belonged to someone or had only just recently lost its owner. It was far from feral, curled up in his arms and purring as it tried to heat itself against the rain and cold. It hadn’t tried to claw him or anything even though the poor thing had nearly been run over and had to be terrified.

Water dripped down onto Sebastian’s nose from the brim of his sweatshirt hood, startling him momentarily and reminding him that even though his new friend was safe from cars, it was still out in the miserable weather that could be just as dangerous for a domestic animal. Decided, he turned towards his house, speaking soothingly as he held the cat close against his chest between the damp layers of his shirt, offering it as much protection as he could from the elements while he took him home.

 

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City Howls #3

The White Wolf, Vale
Exclusive Library
Heller finds his pack on the outskirts of Dogtowne, revealing a crisis underway for the shifter wolves. One of their pups is missing and what the cursed werewolves will do to a shifter is a fate worse than death.

Sage can’t find any relief from his growing ache, no matter how much Frey and his gang helps. He’s ready to go home, hoping to spend the rest of his days hiding his scent in the Wastes. But the werewolf pack leader has made a decision, one that will change Sage’s life forever.

This serial is 10,000+ words long per episode. It contains graphic language, violence, sexually explicit content between men, and shifter bestiality including tying. 18+ Only

10,000+ wrds, Published June 10, 2016.
Heat level: XX

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT CITY HOWLS

on April 20, 2016
on June 11, 2016

Review by: ann on Oct. 01, 2016 :

This book is nice and different looking forward to finding out why sage smells special. Thanks sadie your uploads on smashwords are way easier to download thsn those on amazon. Keep writing

READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

It was right before dawn when the black wolf Heller found his pack.

The verdant blue-green of the forest was how he remembered it, shadowed, fogged and deadly to any that didn’t belong. What would have been a simple wood was magically enhanced by his pack’s sorcery. Heller had found the warnings of new traps, scents that spooked his wolf and kept him from trails that two years ago had been safe. He found the remains of those less lucky, shredded bodies of the cursed that had dared to stalk in their territory during the full moon. There were more than a few picked away corpses left as a warning to those that might come next moon. It made Heller uneasy. The werewolves had rarely dared into their territory before. What had changed that made the crazed howlers think they could stand a chance?

The group of shifters was occupying one of the many private estates belonging to Vale. It was the west facing villa built right by the steep ravine, fortified and protected by both magic and the natural lay of the land. It was another concern because Vale had refrained from opening this last house for years because of the sentimental association it had for the alpha. Something had changed in the dynamic while Heller had been away and he hoped he had not lost his pale leader while he had sat in prison.

As Heller slipped into the manor, his dark paws padding near silent on the tile, he was overwhelmed with the scents of his pack. Breathing in, he could feel the last two years try to seep out of his bones and fur to be replaced with warmth and a feeling of security he had long thought gone. Home. It didn’t matter which building be it hovel or mansion; as long as his pack was there he was home.

He found his pack in the middle of the common room, the group of men, shifted wolves and dogs stretched out on the floor in a pile of fur, limbs and pillows, a few human mates and females among them. Heller recognized nearly all of them. Even though Vale was not among them, he had no fear that his alpha was nearby for the man’s scent was everywhere, still fresh and vibrant. Pack life was like no other. It provided many with a family beyond what they had been born into with stronger bonds and deeper loyalties that connected them together through magic and beast. Heller had not truly felt the loss of such a life until finally returning home.

Stepping surefootedly between the warm, hard bodies of his pack, Heller was greeted welcomingly if not sleepily. He took the spot between Blade and a fluffy Rusty and promptly curled up on the hardwood floor and sighed heavily. With his pack around him, it was nothing for him to close his eyes and slip into the darkness, for the first time free of the fear that had haunted him the last long months. Finally, Heller let himself sleep.

***

Heller felt his pack leave him while the light of day warmed him, their scents clinging and keeping him safe. There were more than a few wet tongues kissing his snout as they left, hands petting him gently before they slipped away to go about their day. Shadowed and familiar, it was the kindest dream he’d had. He wasn’t roused from his deep sleep until hours later and only because of the pale, bare feet of his alpha standing before him, patiently waiting for him to awake. It might have been two years, but Heller was not one to deny Vale anything.

“You made it.”

Heller stretched and then shifted into his human form, sitting for a dazed moment on the floor as he adjusted. “Barely,” he grunted, peering up through his long, black tangle of hair to take in the form of his pack leader. It was strange to see Vale immaculate as always, his white hair sleek and thrown over his shoulder, aristocratic features calm with a hint of haughtiness that only added to the man’s charm. His muscular form was toned and compact and currently dressed in a thin pair of white pants, downplaying the power the man held physically and magically. Vale was a force and even if his human form showed him to be serene and still, his wolf form was a white beast of size and strength none were able to match.

Vale looked the same as always while Heller knew the man saw a different story as he gazed down at him. He had been changed; too thin, face unshaven and dirty. His blue eyes were different as if prison had drained a vitality from him and replaced it with madness. He had always been hard to tame but Heller was now more wild and manic than ever. He felt very much unworthy to kneel before his beautiful alpha after all that he had been through, all that he had survived and ruined to make it this far.

Silver eyes assessing the brunette for long minutes, Vale reached his hand out. The warmth of the man’s hand was a jolt to Heller’s senses, his fingers curling and gripping his pack leader’s palm tightly. He allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, avoiding Vale’s piercing gaze as he swayed unsteadily for a moment. His alpha refused to release his hand and Heller didn’t complain, drawing strength from the simple connection.

“How was the escape route?”

Heller huffed. “I had to go through the entire cursed town. Ended up in the Wastes and nearly lost my nose… and my mind. There was nothing easy about that route.” He dared to meet the man’s patient gaze, glaring back almost challengingly as he waited for whatever judgment Vale had for him.

None came. Reading his gaze for another silent moment, Vale pulled Heller into a fierce embrace, wrapping the taller brunette so tight, Heller wasn’t sure he’d be able to breathe. Still, he hugged him back just as tightly, a desperation in his movements and the sting of tears to his eyes that threatened to have him fall apart if he let go too soon.

Heller sank into the feeling of Vale scenting him, the blond breathing him in deep and ingraining him into his memory. The man was always quiet—except when he was angry, then Vale was quiet and bloody. Very much a ghost, the pack leader had moon pale skin and nearly as white hair, his long silky locks looking to belong to a much older man. Many shifters aged differently, some were even thought to be immortal. Heller didn’t know Vale’s true age but he knew he looked only in his late thirties, all tall, limber muscle and cold, icy silver eyes. He had looked the same when Heller had joined Vale’s pack over twenty years ago when the brunette had turned fifteen. There was no one he trusted more than his white wolf alpha.

Vale pulled away all too soon, Heller left feeling lost and confused to no longer have the man’s warmth and strength around him. “Have you eaten?” Vale asked, eyes again reading something on his face he wished he could hide. “Flint saved you some breakfast.”

“I’m starving,” Heller admitted brusquely, summoning a pair of loose drawstring pants to step into. Two years had filled him with such coldness and he couldn’t find the words for anything just yet. He was home but he didn’t know if it was the same, if he still fit after so much time. Vale seemed to sense his distress, the shorter man wrapping an arm around Heller’s back and holding his bicep as they walked towards the kitchens as if afraid he would disappear if he let go.

“I didn’t expect to find the pack here,” Heller muttered, glancing around the manor as he tried to gain his bearings. He had been to the villa more times than he cared to remember, always alone with his pack leader. It had not only been a fortress to keep enemies out but also to imprison those that were too dangerous to let loose. Knowing his pack was living there was a concern on a different level for Heller.

“I had little choice in the matter,” Vale said simply. “The potion is still effective.”

Heller glanced sideways at the man, wondering how many months Vale had spent wondering if his pack would be wiped out from inside the manor instead of from without.

Shifter wolf packs were more necessity than tradition. There had been a time when shifters hadn’t felt the need to stay together beyond family, especially when the world had opened up with technology and communication. Magic and a simple internet connection could give every available luxury a shifter could dream of. But that was for other shifters, ones that didn’t have to face the cursed.

No one was sure exactly where the source of the werewolf population sprang from. There had of course been legends as far back as humans had been able to write, and before that, when they shared their tales around the fire. Werewolves had always existed in small numbers as had shifters, but something had changed less than a hundred years ago that had spread the werewolf infliction through the population. For a time, every month a new town was infected, the epidemic threatening to take out all of Europe and America until someone had finally made a stand.

Magic users were not the type to work together. They were freelancers at their best, egomaniacal and power hungry on a normal day; sorcerers and sorceresses were more likely to exploit a situation than save humanity. Shifters, not always strong in magic but magical enough to transform into their inner animal, were less prone to self-centered thinking but still preferred to be left alone. If the cursed hadn’t been enraged by the scent of all canines, including the shifters that transformed into the four-legged creatures, the wolf packs may have never taken on the task of destroying the werewolf population. But they had, and after word had gotten out that the cursed were systematically hunting and murdering every canine shifter they could find whether the moon was full or not, they’d had little choice. They could either fight back or be wiped out.

Packs had started to form beyond just family bonds, growing out of a need for survival. Sorcery was taught to every member no matter how little they had the skill. Werewolves had a magic to their cursed forms and physical attack alone could not harm them when they were transformed. Defenses and ways to single out a werewolf in the light of day and far from the full moon were adapted over time. They had even started working on potions in the hopes of finding a cure for the cursed, and if not that, at least a way to keep them from their beserker, howler ways when the moon did hit them.

The shifter wolf packs had come a long way in a short amount of time and while they had struggled to survive, the werewolf population had started to balance from their full out murderous assault and began to police themselves as only their kind could. Leaders had risen up among them, more intelligent and in control of their instincts than the untamed cursed. They had formed gangs that controlled territories, demanding loyalty from the werewolves and humans that if not given was met with ruthless, joyful violence. The shifters had not stopped their war for survival but they enjoyed the lull while the werewolf gangs fought each other for dominance of the cities.

Of the twenty-some shifters that made up Vale’s pack, they consisted mostly of wolves and a few large dog. All of them were accomplished sorcerers, powerful in magic in a way few shifters could claim. Most lived with their spouses and children, a few choosing to move as far away from Dogtowne as possible once they had bred even if it meant losing the pack’s immediate protection. Pack life was unique but it wasn’t always healthy for families. Their days were filled with magic, strategies, and patrols, ever watching the moon and anticipating the bloody fight to come.

Vale had one of the most powerful shifter packs around and Heller had once been second in command to his charismatic alpha. But that had been before the murder of Lorna by the werewolves, before he had been falsely convicted and imprisoned. Heller had no idea where he stood with his pack anymore or the enigmatic man he called alpha.

“I saw the dead cursed in the woods,” Heller remarked, his eyes sliding to what could only be a mounted cursed head. Someone had taken the time to preserve the hideous piece, the strange distortion of human and wolf face twisted in its final death throws. “Fresh. No older than a moon.”

Vale nodded, his grip on Heller’s shoulder tightening for a moment. “I had a room set up for you,” he said in his quiet way, eyes fixed straight ahead. “All your things are there; instruments, spell books, clothing. Even that dreadful ficus that you refused to let die. I need to leave soon—We’re in the middle of a crisis. But I thought you could settle in, get caught up with the pack for now. I’m sure you’re tired.”

Heller growled, trying to pull away, only to have Vale hold his arm tighter.

“I’m not excluding you. You’ve been on the run for weeks, Heller,” Vale said calmly. “You need rest and there is little of that outside these walls.”

“It was prison, not a retirement home,” Heller snapped. “I can help. I… Well, I actually might need your assistance for something.”

Vale raised a pale eyebrow, releasing the brunette once they reached the kitchen. The room was huge, tiled and filled with stainless steel appliances to go with the three large refrigerators and walk-in freezer. Shifters required a lot of food to handle their advanced metabolism. What they hunted and didn’t eat, they froze for later. Food was already out, meat and vegetables waiting at the kitchen island making Heller’s stomach growl at the scent.

“Is this someone from the prison?” Vale asked while Heller threw himself across the room at the plate.

“No, nothing like that.” Heller summoned his jacket one handed while grabbing a fork with the other. “Upper left pocket. Vial. I ran across some sort of… Well, I’ll let you decide what the hell he was. Small, likely a runt if anything.”

Vale caught the long coat when it was thrown to him, picking through Heller’s pockets until finding the item he was talking about. “Sperm?” He asked, his voice reflecting growing confusion.

“Smell it,” Heller grunted, his mouth full. Food had been sparse the last month, nonexistent his last week running for his life. That he felt hunger he took as a good sign that his body hadn’t given up just yet. Each bite was a return to himself, a reminder he wasn’t starving, wasn’t running. Home. He had made it home.

Eyebrow again raised, Vale stared curiously at the small vial, eventually popping the lid to give the contents a hesitant sniff. “Son of a—Fuck!” He snarled, immediately capping the vial and grabbing onto the nearest stool to keep from falling to the ground. “Heller… What the fuck are you trying to do to me?” He snapped, silver eyes flashing warningly.

“Just tell me what he is, Vale,” Heller said, not looking remotely apologetic as the pale man swayed and grasped the kitchen island hard. “I need to know I’m not going crazy here.”

“Bitch,” Vale gritted out, his glare only growing as his trembling arms gave out and he fell chest first against the marble top. “Fuck… Fuck, Heller, you know what that scent does to me.”

“It’s stronger, right? Stronger than a normal bitch scent?” Heller pressed, dropping his fork as he reached over and took the vial from his alpha’s fingers before the man accidentally crushed it.

“Yeah… He has some sort of magical enhancement. Whoever he is, he’s powerful.” Vale continued to glare, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he tried to gain control of himself. “Who is he? Is he in our territory?”

Heller grinned, his fangs glinting as he leaned down next to the panting man and met his gaze. “He lives in the Wastes.”

“What?” Vale wrinkled his nose in confusion. “In the dump?”

“He doesn’t even know how to transform. His parents are dead. Lives with some dick that thinks shifters are the devil.”

Vale furrowed his brow, trying to focus on what the brunette was saying. “But he’s a shifter… How could he have been left behind? We always collect our own.”

“He said werewolves killed his family.” Heller paused, fingers combing into Vale’s long, white hair, his alpha exhaling loudly from the touch. “He doesn’t know he’s a shifter. He’s confused, scared… He begged so pretty when he took my wolf’s knot. Wanted it so bad.”

Vale whimpered, turning his head so he was face to face with the brunette. “Heller.”

“Made me think of you, beautiful. How much you need it at times.” God but his alpha was beautiful like this. Heller tilted his head so he was resting it on the table, his mouth brushing close to Vale’s red lips. “You get so desperate to be filled. Do you want that, Vale? Do you want me?”

“Please,” Vale whispered, arching his back with a moan. “I missed you. Need you.”

 

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Bullying Teacher : Episode #5

Bullying Teacher
Exclusive Library
Picking up where book 4 left off, in the last installment of Bullying Teacher, Darien must find a way to break through Beau’s silence and insecurity to finally get the man to see their connection. He’s been working on his teacher for weeks but Beau just can’t seem to understand just how much he truly cares.

Darien hunts down the man that hurt his teacher but he still faces a dilemma. Frustrated with Beau’s continued refusal to reach out to him in times of need, Darien decides a proper punishment is in order, enlisting three of his very muscular, large friends to help assist in the night’s lesson.

18+ This serial contains explicit m/m sexual content, graphic language, violence, and themes of bondage, discipline, and some humiliation. Each episode is over 10,000 words long and should be read in order to be enjoyed fully.

10,000+ wrds, Published April 15, 2016.
Heat level: XXX

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT BULLYING TEACHER

on April 25, 2016
on December 25, 2016

Theresa rated it it was amazing

Shelves: keepers
4.5 stars Really good humiliation smut. Awesome DP scene. Syrupy sweet ending.
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Pulling a cigarette free, Darien lit it up in the hall the moment he stepped outside Beau’s classroom. His teach was trying to get some food down and he just needed to get the fuck out and breathe for a second. He wanted to scream. He wanted to break something, and scream, and hunt down and destroy the fucker that had hurt his Beau. Instead, he was going to smoke for a minute then go back in and pretend he wasn’t a fucking mess inside so that the blond could feel safe.

Why the fuck hadn’t Beau called him?

He looked over to where Roland was typing on his phone, the man doing his magic with the guys back at their office to find every bit of information available on Collin Hayward. Darien hadn’t bothered to tell Beau that the business he had started when he was back in high school involved the finding of sensitive information and then the blackmailing of people that gave a fuck about if that information was shared. He had started the company with a few ex-military friends, some he had gone to school with, some who he knew from other connections. Once, he had thought he’d be using them just to find out if his father was looking to fuck with his life again. Now he had a feeling he might have to see if Roland knew how to hide a body depending on how bad the night went.

“Do you want me to call in a doctor?”

Darien shook his head sharply. “Not unless he asks for one.”

“Boss, he was practically catatonic when we got here. For all we know, his brain took a bruising from that hit to his face.”

Blowing a steady stream of smoke, Darien didn’t bother to answer. His teach could take a punch. He had seen him take worse at the hands of Blake and his bitch friends and hadn’t missed a fucking beat. No, his teach had gotten down on his knees, sucked him off like a pro, and then rode his fingers until he came. Pain was not a deterrent for the blond but an aphrodisiac. If Beau wanted a doctor, he’d ask. It was one of the many rules they had set up to make sure the blond wasn’t getting himself in too deep. Except, even with everything Darien had done, Beau had still managed to get hurt the second he was out of his sight.

Beau wouldn’t let him hire a bodyguard. It had been a huge sore spot for Darien, one that he was pretty sure was about to blow up after this. He just wanted to have a familiar guy with his teach, someone he could trust to make sure nothing went down when he couldn’t be there. But Beau thought he was being silly. The man didn’t want people thinking he was someone special or some stupid shit like that. But Beau was special. His teach was his fucking life and today had been a new kind of hell for Darien when the man hadn’t shown up for dinner.

He shouldn’t have let him leave without a bodyguard. He should have locked the man up in the fucking house and made him quit his shitty job. There was just something about Beau, something in his eyes that called to certain individuals to feed his need for pain. It made them want to hurt him, use him, and when his pretty teach was in the right headspace, Beau loved ever second of it and begged for more. But that was only when he was in that headspace and with someone that actually gave a fuck enough to figure out what he liked.

Tears. Fucking tears in those beautiful blue eyes, and not in a sexy way. No, in a fucking helpless way that wrenched Darien’s heart too painful to fathom. Beau could take a fucking punch but this thing, whatever had happened, it had hurt him in a way pain didn’t. He was doing his damndest to not imagine just how exactly that could have been.

“I gotta make some calls,” he finally said, crushing his cigarette beneath his heel and scraping it into the tile. “I want that fucker found, and I want him brought here tonight.”

“Here?” Roland looked up, pulling a second phone out while he continued typing one-handed on the first. “The school?”

Darien nodded, ignoring the questioning look his head of security was sending him. He needed to make sure that whatever had happened hadn’t fucked up his pretty teach forever. Beau had a special kind of wiring, one that demanded the right knowledge and a skilled touch. He knew the longer the problem stretched on and festered, the harder it would be to get Beau feeling like himself again. He wanted things taken care of asap. The fact that part of it involved beating the shit out of the deadman that had touched his Beau was just a total perk.

“We got him,” Roland called out before the boy could leave, pushing off the wall. “He just used his credit card in a restaurant less than twenty minutes away.”

“Danny?”

“Already on the way with Jordan. How do you want this guy brought in, boss?”

Darien considered, eying the picture Roland held up on the screen of his phone. “Keep him pretty. I want to fuck him up myself. Let me know when they get him here, but not in front of the teach.”

Roland nodded, texting as Darien spoke. “The guys dug up some more shit on him. Hayward was in a heavy scene about five years back. Used to frequent an underground club. Few regulations, lots of drugs. They were known for some pretty fucked up doms. A young man ended up dead and the place was shut down. Looks like Hayward’s aunt threw some money at some people and no one is saying shit.” He glanced up when Darien growled, fixing the boy with a look. “Hey, this is good news. With info like this, you have this guy by the balls.”

Darien just grunted, fighting back his anger and the pit of seething emotion beneath it. “You remember that kid I asked you to keep an eye on a few weeks back? Sutor’s brother, Rich? Did he ever get back to us on that thing we discussed?”

Roland nodded, already flipping through his other phone. “He seemed agreeable enough to it. Clean record. Able to listen.”

“I want him down here.” Hopefully, it would fix it.

In that moment, he felt like he was fighting fire with fire while holding onto the foolish hope the place wouldn’t burn down. But that was what Darien did. Every day he pushed forward, demanded the best from himself and everyone around him, and he prayed he wouldn’t trip and be stopped flat. Being with Beau had changed that. He had been allowed to take a beautiful soul and feed it, nurture it and give his teach everything the man could ever desire and he had felt at peace from it. Until someone had tried to take his teach away from him. Now Darien was back to trying to keep ahead of the consequences at breakneck speed while hoping he wouldn’t crash.

He had to suck it up. Push through and keep his eye on the prize along with every other cliche fucking saying that would help him get through this. Not for him but for Beau. His teach needed him strong. Darien didn’t feel strong; he felt absolutely out of control. The one man he gave a fuck about had been assaulted and he hadn’t been able to do a thing. He hadn’t even known until hours later. It didn’t matter what he did to this Hayward dick in retribution, it wouldn’t change the fact that he had failed Beau, that he could fail him again at any time. He could wrap the blond in fucking bubble wrap and order him to stay at his feet but Beau was going to pursue the things that brought him joy even when pain swiftly followed.

Sighing, he lit up another cigarette. He didn’t take pain as well as Beau did. He didn’t like to feel pain; he liked to push past it and let it spur him into action. Watching his pretty teach take pain was an experience unmatched by any other. The man was beautiful—strong in such a way he was never going to be, and so fucking beautiful. The man embraced the good and the bad, the pleasure and pain, and he transformed it into something beyond with his own body. Beau was fucking magic and didn’t even know it.

It didn’t matter how hard Darien pushed himself. Life wasn’t scripted and there was always something waiting in the dark to try and prey on the weak and unlucky. He could only protect his teach to the best of his ability and hope that Beau would be able to take the burden of pain when he failed. He’d be able to carry his teach through after, but he couldn’t change the fucking world that would break the man in the first place.

 

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Coffee Guy

Broken By Alphas
Exclusive Library
Six successful, powerful, dominating alpha wolf shifters. One sexy, naïve coffee guy.

Jayden wasn’t expecting his skintight jeans and flirting ways to catch the eye of his billionaire alpha when he started his new job at Starling Enterprises. He definitely wasn’t expecting to find himself on the floor of his packleader’s office, bound and servicing every eligible alpha that works in the building.

Galvin Starling and his associates have a lesson to teach their coffee guy about being a distraction in the workplace. Galvin’s not sure if Jayden can handle all six hard points on the matter, but he’s determined to find out. If Jayden begs nice enough, they might eventually untie him. Maybe.

Jayden’s night gets even more overwhelming when he discovers just what makes these muscular alphas so different from other shifters. It gets wet, and no towels are offered to stave the downpour.

Warning: This is an intense, caffeinated allnighter of using, stretching, multiple penetration, dominance, degrading language, soaked floors, and sexy strong men with shifter anatomy that knots and ties. With over 15,000 words of naughty filth, it guarantees you’ll never look at your coffee guy the same way again.

15,000+ wrds, Published November 10, 2015.
Heat level: XXX



WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT COFFEE GUY

on December 4, 2016
From the blurb and the fact that this story is 50 pages (and if you know Sadie’s writing) it’s pretty clear from the get-go this is going to be one debauched quickie. And it really is. One hundred percent. And even though absolute dominance, multiple, non-romantically invested ‘partners’ etc., is not really my kink, I enjoy Sadie’s writing style, even when it pushes me beyond my comfort zone. And, I would SO love to see Jayden bring his Alpha to his knees, heart and all, in a follow-up story!
on July 31, 2016
more than what i expected but in the best possible way
on June 19, 2017
I liked it so much, I joined her subscription service. Great idea and being shifters made it easier to imagine some of the scenes.
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Galvin

He’s back. Coffee guy. Black hair, pale skin, gold eyes, red lips, really tight ass. Knocking on my office door like he doesn’t know who I am. Smiling at me like he doesn’t know what I am. Breathing easy like he doesn’t know he’s mine.

He’s been by six times this week. Coffee related. Stands outside my open office door, leaning on Margie’s desk while chatting up a storm. Tight jeans, hard thighs, very nice biceps under his polo. His name’s Jayden. Human resources sent me up a file on him before I requested it. Because they knew. One whiff of Jayden’s sweat, and I knew. Jayden, for whatever reason, has yet to figure things out. It’s been interesting.

“Hey, Mr. Starling, right? I’ve got five for you.”

He’s a terrible flirt. Margie’s been telling me. She also insists the kid is really just naïve as fuck. But he’s standing in my office doorway, breathing deep as he takes in every telltale scent my body gives off as he looks around. And he’s just smiling that lazy, confident smile he’s had since the first day I saw him. I have to say, I like it.

I don’t bother answering. I want to see what he’ll do. I’m a busy guy, and believe me, wasting my time not only wastes a ton of money, but jeopardizes the lives of every man, woman, and child in my very extensive pack. We’re shifters. Wolf. A few canine mutts, but not many. I have the most powerful clan on the East coast. I am the most powerful man on the East coast. And when I turn into a wolf, I am quite literally the top dog. Alpha. Packleader. Protector, warrior, and businessman all rolled into one.

“You must have an allnighter planned to need so much coffee. I think I’d be on a caffeine buzz by just two of these.” He steps in, drinks balanced in a cardboard holder. I watch him out of the corner of my eye while I finish looking over my financial report on my laptop. He hesitates a foot from my desk. I can feel him looking at me, taking in my broad shoulders, large hands, sharp, predatory face. I’m a silver wolf, and my hair matches. Combined with my ice blue eyes, and deep tan, I get a lot of stares. More so when my clothes are off. But he’s a slut, and he’s not subtle.

“The desk is fine,” I say when he continues to stand there. His hands have the slightest of tremors when he places the coffee down. Not naïve. Or at least, not anymore. I’ve got an Alpha’s voice. Low, seductive, and all power. I glance over my computer at him, and he’s stuck. Just like that. Gotta say, it’s good to be king. A couple of words, one hard stare, and a pretty thing like Jayden can’t move his legs.

“How many more people are waiting for drinks?” I ask, watching his pupils dilate from the sound of my voice. He’s hotter up close. I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing jeans in my multibillion-dollar setup. Jayden’s lower ranks, and he’s got nice thighs, so I’m going to let it slide.

“Um, twenty or so…” He trails off, exhaling loudly as his tongue flicks out to wet his lips. He’s having a hard time. I have that effect on shifters. He’s close enough to smell my musk, and he’s pretty much jelly.

“I suggest you get going.” Or he’s going to stand here staring at me until he dies of starvation, or I leave.

He swallows, my eyes drawn to the way his throat convulses. Sweat is just starting to prickle on his brow, and he’s wafting a very enticing sex scent. “Right… I should, um, get back to work. Enjoy your coffee.”

I flash him a smirk, revealing a hint of fang. “I don’t drink coffee, Jayden.”

He swallows again, this time because he’s trying to figure out why I know his name. I’m an alpha. The Alpha. Only a few reasons I’d give a fuck to know my coffee guy’s name when I don’t drink coffee. His feet backpedal slowly, lovely gold eyes still caught in mine. Yeah, he’s something worth looking at. “Ah, well, you have enough to bathe in… so… yeah…”

Silently I watch him go. He practically collapses on Margie’s desk. Silly, naïve little wolf.

I IM my five guys. They’re in my office drinking the coffee by the time Jayden makes his way back. No one gets through the top floor without passing my office door.

“Trev.” I don’t say anything else. Trevor takes a final sip of his coffee, tosses the cup in the trash, and goes to greet my pretty new bitch.

Jayden tries to play it cool. He’s smooth, polite, and still has work to do. Trevor grins and grabs him firmly by the nape of the neck. Gold eyes half obscured by heavy lids, Jayden allows himself to be walked into my office. Good boy.

“Door?”

“Open.” It’s still work hours, and I might be needed.

Things have changed in my office since Jayden was last here. The most impressive would be the five muscular young men lounging on the leather couch that takes up two walls of the large space. I’m quick with introductions. Freddie heads Research and Development. Hans runs Accounting. Trevor’s my Vice, Sean my Junior Partner, and Liam’s my Marketing god. My guys call me Galvin, but Jayden will be referring to me only as Alpha. He will call them each Sir.

The guys give Jayden a polite hello while my coffee guy sways on his feet, his cheeks growing flushed from all the testosterone in the air. I hang with other alphas. They’re not rivals; they’re loyal. Useful for keeping my business running smoothly, and we all have similar interests. Jayden just nods, his lips parted as he begins to pant. Coffee guy has a very nice mouth.

I look at Trevor, who still has his hand on Jayden’s neck. “Strip him.”

“Oh, fuck.” Eyes widening, Jayden falls to his knees the instant he’s released. We’re off to a good start.

 

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