Monday, December 18, 2017

Title:  Space Mac
Author: Emma Jane
Publisher:  NineStar Press
Release Date: December 18, 2017
Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 49400
Science Fiction, LGBT, abduction, 
aliens, interspecies, captivity, priest
Cocky escort Mackenzie “Mac” Jones has just the right type of blood so that when he steals an odd silver brooch from a client, it transports him to a strange planet. Frightened and confused—and confronted by aliens—he flees and ends up bumping into a handsome humanoid male named Teevar.

But Teevar and his companions are also on the run, and Mac finds himself embroiled in the affairs of his new friends with no idea how to get back to Earth. Can Mac and Teevar survive long enough to work out their feelings for each other? And will Mac ever see home again?
Space Mac
Emma Jane © 2017
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One

Mackenzie was naked because he was too lazy to put any clothes on, and besides, his client was rich enough to keep the massive house heated. His feet were toasty warm thanks to the underfloor heating in the kitchen, and he flexed his toes against the tiles as he reached into the fridge for a carton of orange juice.

“Ethan? Ethan, darling, fetch me a drink too, won’t you?”

Mac rolled his eyes. Fat bastard should get out of bed and get his own drink, although Mac conceded he was being paid enough to grab a drink when he was asked. Heaving a sigh, he found a second glass and then poured another juice.

He scratched his arse, sipped his own drink, and had a nose around the kitchen. Everything was modern and expensive—shiny stainless steel and granite worktops. He wondered if his client ever did any cooking or if he hired a chef. Probably gets takeout, he thought, smirking. Something on the island in the middle of the kitchen caught his eye, and he wandered over to see scraps of paper covered in scribbles he couldn’t work out, a wooden box, and a big fat book about astrophysics that looked extremely dull. Glancing over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t being watched, Mac picked up the wooden box and opened it up. Inside sat an intricate silver brooch, the metalwork all twisted and peculiar. He abandoned his orange juice and picked up the brooch to get a better look, vaguely wondering if it was worth a lot of money and if anybody would notice if it went missing.

He turned it over to see if there was a hallmark on it—not that he’d know if it meant anything—and cursed when the pin pierced his finger.

“Bollocks,” he muttered as blood beaded at his fingertip. He glared at the brooch and then blinked as it glowed softly. The metal turned red in his hand, heating up, and he was about to drop it when a flash of light made him screw his eyes shut.

He became aware of a cool breeze brushing against his skin and then warmth once more. When he opened his eyes, his heart fluttered. The room he found himself in was no longer the kitchen. He sat up straight—he was sitting on a chair, he realised—and stared at the scene around him, his brain not quite able to make sense of what his eyes were seeing.

The room was empty. White. But there was a door there, opposite where he sat, and as his eyes adjusted, he could distinguish the outline. He stared at it, not knowing what the hell was going on. The brooch fell from his hand and thudded to the floor.

“Shit,” he whispered. God, he was still naked. Was this some sort of weird kinky thing his client had set up? Was the man about to enter the room, tie him down, and probe him? Mac wasn’t into bondage. He tried to remember whether he’d specified he wasn’t into bondage or not.

Screw this. He got to his feet, ready to leave, when something crackled in the air and a voice sounded in the room. It spoke in a language he didn’t understand, and it made the hairs on his arms stand up.

“I don’t understand you,” he called. “Look, I didn’t sign up for this, okay? Blow jobs, anal… I’ll even stick my tongue up your arse if you bung me an extra fifty, but—”

The door opened and two men entered. They wore white robes and one carried a briefcase. Mac retreated behind the chair, though it didn’t offer him a lot of protection.

“Ménage is great and everything, but I usually ask for payment upfront. Nobody told me I’d be doing this tonight!”

One of the men took his arm and guided him back to the chair. Confused and with his heart thumping, Mac sat.

Before he could do anything else, the man grabbed him by the shoulders and held him in the chair, looking into his eyes and muttering softly in that strange language. Mac struggled, but the man was strong—he twisted his head to catch a glimpse of what the other guy was doing behind him and caught sight of a large needle exiting the briefcase.

“You stay the hell away from me with that thing! I don’t do drugs!”

The man took hold of his face and held him tight. Mac clutched his wrists, vainly trying to free himself. He didn’t know what the guy was doing behind him until he felt a sting in the back of his neck, just beneath his skull. His eyes widened as the pain sharpened, and he kicked out.

His vision doubled, blurred. The men both spoke to him and to each other, but he couldn’t understand them, couldn’t…wait…

“You understand us now? Yes?”

“I don’t think he does. You made the chip too strong. Look at his eyes! I don’t think they’re meant to be that red.”

“The chip is fine. His eyes are probably meant to do that.” Then to Mac, “Can you understand us?”

Mac stared. He had an odd metallic taste in his mouth, but it disappeared when he swallowed. He frowned at the men as they peered at him.

“What the hell did you do to me?”

“Translator chip; you didn’t have one.”

“Very primitive,” said the other man. “Backwards even. Are you sure he has the right make-up?”

“He wouldn’t have activated the pin if his blood was incorrect. I’d say his species is a cousin of some sort. Look at him. He looks almost kovan.”

Now that the men had released him and stood back, discussing him, Mac raised a hand and touched the back of his head. He couldn’t feel a hole, and when he looked at his fingers, there was no blood.

“Take a sample quickly. Then we’d better put him back.”

Mac blinked at the men. “What the bloody hell is going on?” he asked. “Who the fuck are you guys?”

One of the men crouched in front of him and gave him a smile as if he was a simpleton. “What species are you?” he said, slowly.


“Species.” The men exchanged a look and one rolled his eyes.

Mac glowered at them. “This is all very funny,” he said. “I’m a human. You guys are dickheads. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to get the fuck out of this…whatever the hell this situation is, and leave. Martin will be paying me double for this. Bloody weirdo. I’m going to have to add more clauses to my profile now, you know that?”

“Human.” The men looked at each other again.

“Never heard of it,” one said.

“Does it matter? Just make a record of it. Human male. DNA match. Get the cell sample.”

“This is, like, role play, right?” Mac asked. “Just drop the act now. One of you can get my bloody clothes for me, and then I’m off. Tell Martin to shove it up his arse.”

As he stood to leave, one of the men moved suddenly and pushed something hard against Mac’s thigh and clicked the end of it, sending a searing hot pain into his flesh.

“Jesus Christ.” Mac doubled over and clasped a hand against the wound as the man removed the device. He could only lower himself back into the chair, his skin burning with indignation. He blinked and tentatively removed his hand. Again, there was no blood, but an angry red welt blemished his perfect skin.

“What was that thing? You people can’t keep sticking things in me. I feel violated.” He looked for the…whatever it was, but the men had secreted it away. “Right. I’m leaving, right now! I’m going to have you people blacklisted! Tell Martin nobody’s going to fuck him now.”

He got up, but one of the men reached for him saying, “We will send you back.”

Mac twisted out of the guy’s grasp, shoved the other man out of the way, and ran for the door. They shouted after him, but it only spurred him on. He reached the door, pulled it open, and emerged into another room that still didn’t look like his client’s house. White walls again, but this was a laboratory of some sort, and Mac was buggered if he was going to hang around and let the weirdos perform sex experiments on him. They came after him, so he ran on, out of that room and into a corridor of yet more white. Cursing, he chose a direction and sprinted onwards, his bare feet slapping the floor.

The air crackled and voices sounded out. “Attention. Subject loose. One human male. Not dangerous. Not intelligent. Needs apprehending. Will respond to Ethan Smith. Michael Harris. James Johnson. Mackenzie Jones. Aidan Peters…”

Mac almost stopped. How the hell did they know all his aliases? And they knew his real name. Not intelligent? Bastards! They were probably some big-city escort agency looking to put him out of work or recruit him. They’d probably been watching him. Well, he wasn’t standing for any of that bullshit!

Footsteps echoed down the corridor behind him, and he bolted to the nearest door and pulled it open.

Light dazzled him. Noise hit him, and when he could see again, he gaped at the sight before him. The ground beneath his feet was dusty sand, the buildings all around him were a mishmash of styles and from different eras—tall, glass-fronted office buildings, wooden shacks straight from a Western, oddly shaped bricked cottages, glass domes… Vehicles buzzed in the sky like something out of a science fiction novel.

Someone yelled, “Out the way!” and Mac pressed himself back against the door as a man rode past on a creature that looked like a short-eared giant rabbit.

“What the actual fuck?” Mac didn’t have time to take in anything else. Voices from behind the door alerted him they were still coming after him, so he ran across the street and disappeared into an alley between two of the giant office blocks. He kept running, changing direction, twisting and turning, and doubling back until he was certain nobody would find him.

Then he stopped, sank down to his backside, and wondered if Martin had drugged the juice.

The sand, while not unpleasant beneath his feet, was working its way up his arse-crack and reminding him he was still naked. If he was tripping, or…whatever the hell was happening…then he could at least not be naked about it. He stumbled down the alleyway, distractedly wiping sand from his skin, and kept an eye out for anything he could use to cover himself with. The buildings seemed to come straight out of the ground on either side of him, no doors or windows, the walls made from glass he couldn’t see through. Mac stopped and eyed his reflection, running a hand through his hair to tidy it and peering at his bloodshot eyes.

A dream, he thought. I’m in a dream. He couldn’t remember whether he was ever aware he was dreaming when he dreamt, but he was aware of it now. He pinched the skin on his arm, but the sensation didn’t wake him.

Sighing, he turned to look back the way he had come. Nobody came after him. No Kevins or whatever the hell they called themselves.


He waited but nobody replied to him. He didn’t know if talking in a dream meant he would be talking in his sleep. Nobody had ever told him he talked in his sleep—none of his clients, none of his partners. A girlfriend once told him he snored, but he’d been a smoker at the time, and since he’d given up, he’d had no comments on the matter.

The alleyway ended at a street, or a sort of street. It was an open, dusty area, opposite which there were more buildings, and along which people walked and chattered and rode weird rabbit-beasts.

Mac laughed a little. “No more cheese before bed,” he muttered. Nakedness in dreams was supposed to mean something, but Mac was buggered if he could remember what. Something about shame and embarrassment, probably. He felt neither and never had done about nudity. He looked great naked. He stood, hands on hips, watching the scene before him with a strange sense of detachment.

“Hey! Hey, you!”

Mac turned towards the voice. A man, dressed in red to match his red face, ran at him. Mac raised his hands to warn the guy off, but the man tackled him to the ground, turned him onto his front, and dragged his arms behind his back.

“Ow, bloody hell!” Mac protested. “Careful!” Something cold clasped his wrists, and he realised he’d been cuffed.

“You are under arrest for indecency in a public place,” the man said. “You will be taken immediately—”

“I’m dreaming,” Mac explained, as he was hauled to his feet. “Everything’s okay.”

“—to the holding cells at Baska Hall and kept until judgement is brought upon you. You do not have to say anything—”

Mac frowned as the man took off his red coat and covered him. “Hey, do I get a lawyer in this dream, or…?”

“You will be assigned a lawyer. And maybe a doctor to assess your mental health.”

“Great, yeah, I need one of those.”

Mac allowed the man to pull him along the street. He was aware of people watching him. He was also aware, when he looked closer, that some of the people didn’t look quite human. There was a face with more eyes than he could count at a glance, blinking out at him from a slender frame draped in black. A creature resembling a giant insect or a walking twig strode past him, its arms and legs long and gangly. Women—two of them—gazed at him from across the street, but when he looked again, a film passed across their eyes and they licked their lips with forked tongues.

The man stopped pulling him along as they reached a large silver sphere; he waved a hand and a door opened up before him.

“In you get,” he told Mac.

“What…?” He didn’t really know how to finish his sentence, so he didn’t bother. Dazedly, he staggered into the sphere, and the man followed. There was nothing inside but two chairs, and Mac sat because he didn’t know what else to do and his head was beginning to spin.

The man sat beside Mac and performed a few more hand movements. A brief vibration passed through the sphere before both chairs rose into the air and floated in the centre. Mac cursed. Two belts snaked from the seat, one across his lap and the other across his chest, and held him secure. He swallowed hard and chanced a look at the man to see if he looked like he knew what he was doing.

Then, the sphere disappeared, or seemed to. The inside became transparent. With the outside world visible once more, they moved forwards—the man controlling their direction with subtle flicks of his hand.

Mac laughed at the madness of it all and then, as buildings whizzed by faster and faster, he threw up and passed out.

Meet the Author
Emma Jane has been writing stories since primary school, some of which still survive in notebooks in her dad’s attic, and wanted to be an author as soon as she realised it was a possible career choice and ‘Pony’ or ‘Ninja’ weren’t viable options.

Her first short story, Club Freak, about an anonymous woman’s determination to find her husband’s killer, was published by Park Publication’s Debut magazine in May 2009. Since then, she has gone on to write many short stories and poems for various small presses and has achieved an Honourable Mention in the 2011 Writers of the Future competition.

In 2014, writing as Emma Jane, she signed her first publishing contract for not one, but two novels. Otherworld formerly published by Torquere Press, and Shuttered by Dreamspinner Press.
One lucky winner will receive an 
ebook of their choice from NineStar Press
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Title:  Holiday Collection, Week Five
Author: Multiple
Publisher:  NineStar Press
Release Date: December 18, 2017
Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex
Pairing: Male/Male, Female/Female
Length: Multiple
Multiple, LGBT, ghost, hauntings, 
Christmas, gay, new love, 
matchmaker, holidays, musicans, 
bands, DJ, angst, friends to lovers, 
second-hand sweaters, sibling betrayal, 
reunited, age gap, stranded, grief, 
lawyer, writer, Christmas, dragons, 
fantasy, hurt/comfort, 
lesbian, illness, young adult
Ash isn’t exactly filled with the Christmas spirit. He left Texas after being outed by an ex, and isn’t in the mood for family holidays. When one of his neighbors shows up out of the blue insisting that Christmas decorations are mandatory per their lease, he rolls and goes along with it as long as he doesn’t personally have to do anything.
The fact that the guy filled with “cheer” is the most attractive man he’s seen in his new hometown has nothing to do with it. He does agree to dinner, though.
Will the determined ghost get her way and make this an unforgettable Christmas for Ash and Tristan?

Mikaal Sarhadi has been in trouble since the moment he met guitarist Declan Hyde. Declan treats music like religion, setting high standards for himself and his bandmates. Mikaal struggles to even step on stage. He will do anything to justify Declan’s belief in him—even if that means ignoring the powerful attraction between them.
After a chance meeting with Brandon, Declan’s estranged brother, reveals just how much Declan will sacrifice for his music, Mikaal wonders if he can even call himself a musician. Worse, drummer Hiro’s visa application has been denied. With time running out for The Charity Shop Rejects, Mikaal must conquer his stage fright or lose music—and Declan—entirely.

Spending an unexpected holiday break alone following his parents’ sudden death, thirty-something lawyer Zane Anders attends to unfinished business: getting his parents’ dilapidated Cape Cod cottage ready to sell and retrieving a mysterious Christmas present Zane’s mother left behind. But an acquaintance from the past interrupts his solitude at the beach. Christopher DeVries has morphed awfully fast from the awkward, infatuated teenager Zane remembers to a handsome college senior living next door. He’s still too young for Zane. Although he’s remarkably mature…and beguiling.
Deterred by their age difference, Zane hesitates to make the first move. But when a fierce Nor’easter closes highways and paralyzes the Cape, both Zane’s and Christopher’s Christmas plans are rewritten.
So what if winter isn’t beach weather?

Carmen is eleven years old and wants to get her dragon. Since she was seven years old, she understood two things. One, she was going to be the strongest Dragon Keeper there ever was. The second was that she was going to marry her best friend, Mattie.
As Christmas approaches the magical charms Carmen has to use to fight off her curse are taking a toll on her health. But that can’t stop her from taking her final test to become a Dragon Keeper. If she passes her test she gets her dragon, if not, she has to start all over, relying on different magical charms to fight the curse for her. That is something Carmen doesn’t want to have to go through. The testing is difficult and charms make her sick. Carmen has decided that if she doesn’t get her dragon this Christmas she’s not going to go for a third attempt, even if that means she can’t marry Mattie when she grows up.
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Title: Unexpected Christmas
Author: Nell Iris
Length: 13,527 words
Publisher: JMS Books
Release Date: 16th December 2017
Daniel Erickson stormed out of his family celebration after choking on turkey served with a side of bigotry. Utterly miserable, he reluctantly lets himself be charmed by the hulk of a man and gets into the stranger’s car ... hoping he won’t be axed before the night is through.

Axel Wilson -- Ax for short, unfortunately -- is a sweetheart. Really. He may be badass-looking but his heart melts into goo at the mere mention of his four-year-old niece. Surely he isn’t dangerous?

Thrown together by family drama, the two men spend the evening getting to know each other. Axel is nothing like Daniel expected. But it doesn’t matter that he loves poetry, is gentle and patient -- and hot! -- Daniel is absolutely not falling in love at first sight. There’s no such thing.


A few minutes later, a vehicle approached from behind. Reacting instinctively, I turned around and waved my arms, hoping the big truck would stop and have mercy on my freezing ass.

I let out a giddy yelp as it slowed down, but it got stuck in my throat when the driver rolled down the window.

He was huge and couldn't hold his head upright without banging it on the ceiling. Big steel gauges adorned both his ears -- at least an inch and a half wide -- and his hair was black and so closely cropped it resembled a five o'clock shadow more than an actual haircut.

"You need a ride?" he asked and his voice was deeper than the Mariana Trench, perfectly matching his frightening appearance. Black tattoos crept up his neck and snaked down his hands below his sleeves. His shoulders were wide, his muscles strained the sleeves of his thick black jacket, and his cheeks were hollow. I was one second from shitting myself.

"I'm not riding with a serial killer!" The words slipped out of my mouth and I groaned. I couldn't have kept my mouth shut for five fucking seconds to avoid being chopped up and thrown to the wolves?

He threw his head back and let out a thunderous laugh.

"What's so goddamned funny?" I glared at him, but he didn't seem to care.

"I'm no serial killer."

"And I'm just supposed to take your fucking word for it?" I raised an eyebrow. I knew I was being combative and taking out my frustration on this stranger, but I couldn't stop myself.

"You could call my ma for references."

"Ha ha. Very funny." With a deep sigh, I resigned to my fate and started walking again. No way was I getting into a car with that mammoth of a man.

"Where you goin'?" he called after me. When I didn't bother to answer, he eased off the break and let his truck crawl after me.

I swirled around. "Stop following me, you creep," I hissed.

He let go of the steering wheel with one hand and held it up as if he surrendered. "Look, man. It's freezin'. You're wet and miserable. Get in the truck and lemme take you wherever you're goin'." His deep voice was surprisingly gentle. Non-threatening, as if he'd come to expect reactions like mine.

"I'm really not a bad guy." He stuck out his lower lip in a pout that would have made a five-year-old girl green with envy and I had to bite my lip to stop a smile from erupting.

"Really?" I tried to hang on to my mistrust, but he made it hard. His appearance screamed RUN AND HIDE, but there was something soft in his eyes that told a different story.

He shot me a crooked smile. "It was worth a try. It works on my niece every time."

The fucker knew all the right words to say to disarm me. "And how old is she?"


I huffed out a reluctant chuckle. "Well, you know how it is. Everyone always says how they couldn't believe their neighbor was a serial killer because he seemed like such a nice guy."

His eyes grew big and round. "You're sayin' you don't trust my niece as a character witness?" He sounded as I'd just delivered the biggest insult of his life, but the amused glint in his eyes told me it was all for show.

"Can you blame me?"

"I guess not." He sighed and grew serious. "Please. I couldn't live with myself if I left you here to freeze to death."

My body screamed at me to take him up on his offer. The ice pellets were relentless and I was soaked and gloomy and was starting to feel like maybe being ax murdered wouldn't be the worst thing that could happen to me right now.

The openness in his posture and honesty in his eyes had me on the verge of caving. "You promise you won't kill me?" I sounded like a scared little kid even to my own ears.
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Author Bio
Nell Iris is a romantic at heart who believes everyone deserves a happy ending. She’s a bona fide bookworm (learned to read long before she started school), wouldn’t dream of going anywhere without something to read (not even the ladies room), loves music (and singing along but let’s face it, she’s not Celine Dion), and is a real Star Trek nerd (Make it so). She loves words, poetry, wine, and Sudoku, and absolutely adores elephants!

Nell believes passionately in equality for all regardless of race, gender or sexuality, and wants to make the world a better, less hateful, place.

Nell is a 40-something bisexual Swedish woman, married to the love of her life, and a proud mama of a grown daughter. She left the Scandinavian cold and darkness for warmer and sunnier Malaysia a few years ago, where she spends her days writing, surfing the Internet, enjoying the heat, and eating good food. One day she decided to chase her life long dream of being a writer, sat down in front of her laptop, and wrote a story about two men falling in love.

Nell Iris writes gay romance, prefers sweet over angsty, and wants to write diverse and different characters.

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Tuesday, December 12, 2017

Title:  Protecting his Omega
Author: Giovanna Reaves
Publisher: Self-Pub
Release Date: December 12, 2017
Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 226
Romance, Mpreg, Alpha, 
Omega, Non-Shifter
Phoenix Harcourt is a single father who was kicked out of his home when his parents found out that he was an omega. After losing his alpha mate, Phoenix turned his focus to his daughter and the successful company that was left in his care. With a threat to his life, Phoenix hires a bodyguard who wants to protect more than his body. He also want’s Phoenix’s heart.

Hired to protect an omega, Lucius Payne had one goal: do his job and nothing else. He was never one to mix business with pleasure. Moreover, finding an omega mate was not in his plans, especially when it is the man he is supposed to protect. When his job becomes more complicated than he was expecting. Can Lucius convince Phoenix to trust him with his heart as well as his body?

Excerpt from Chapter One

“Welcome back, Mister Harcourt,” Joyce Bailey greeted Phoenix Harcourt, CEO of Phoenix English, Inc.
“Good morning, Joyce,” he greeted his executive administrative assistant, as he stopped by her desk before heading to his office. “Alissa,” he greeted to Joyce’s assistant who nodded at him before he looked back at Joyce. “Come and see me in twenty minutes, I need to look over a few business reports.”
“Yes, sir,” she said writing down his instructions.
Phoenix walked into his office, and set his briefcase down on the chair in front of his large mahogany desk. He loosened his tie just a bit before taking off his suit jacket, resting it on the back of his chair as he sat down. He glanced at the stack of mail that had accumulated in the week he’d been out of the office.
Returning to work after taking care of his daughter, Jasmine, who’d caught a nasty bug from school, was both a relief and a guilt trip. He loved being a dad, but being a single father had its ups and downs and having a sick child was certainly one of the down moments. “I thought Joyce would’ve gone through all this already,” he muttered to himself.
Logging in to his computer, he pulled up the latest business reports from his management team and checked on his company’s stock. Everything seemed to be in good standing, the holidays were always profitable for Phoenix English, Inc. While Phoenix tried to get as much paperwork done while he was at home, Jasmine needed him more. He followed the motto that Maxwell English had ingrained in him and their employees: family always came first.
Phoenix turned around in his chair and stared out the window. He never thought his life would turn out the way it had.There were three hierarchical statuses in society: alpha, beta, or omega. Phoenix was a male omega, a status in society that some considered to be rare with their androgynous beauty and his unique ability to bear children. However, no matter how rare omegas are, they have a low standing in society and, in most cases, not seen as leaders and are supposed to be submissive to their mates.
Alphas, on the other hand, were respected and recognized as leaders, with their abnormally handsome features, strength, and intelligence, they were perfectly compatible with their omega mates or that was what the fates and gods wanted society to believe.
Betas made up the vast majority of society and were more humanistic in appearance and physique, they were also a step down from alphas. Betas could mate with an omega, but they were unable to
have children together.
 As Phoenix considered his status, he shook his head to remind himself that as an omega, he was running a multibillion-dollar cosmetic company with his name on it. And that made him smiled. Hearing the sound of ice rain hit his window, it reminded him that the holidays were a few weeks away. The holidays always made him think of Max, the man who became more like a father to him than his own father. He missed Max. He was there for Phoenix when he needed him, right after his parents kicked him out.
He hated thinking about his parents, especially the way they shunned him after they found out he was an omega. At sixteen, there were a few things that happened in his life. Puberty. Some experience it a couple of months before or after their sixteenth birthday. But around sixteen was the age when teenagers found out if they were an alpha, omega, or beta. When Phoenix turned sixteen, he found out two things that he had accepted about himself: he was gay and an omega.
However, it seemed his parents were having a difficult time coming to terms with the fact that he was an omega. He remembered that day, as if it was yesterday. It was six months after he and his twin brother, Anthony, or Tony to his family and friends, turned sixteen and he noticed that his parents were acting cold towards him. Tony was an alpha and he was also acting strangely towards him.
Phoenix and Tony had always been close, they shared everything from clothes to secrets. There were a few things that Phoenix noticed when it came to his brother, that he was forgetting conversations they had or places they’d been to. Although they were twins, Phoenix had always thought that their parents loved them, equally acknowledging and accepting that they had different personalities. His parents had portrayed themselves as open-minded and willing to listen to everyone’s problems. They
were always preaching to Phoenix and Tony that they should be more tolerant of all mankind and their differences.
Phoenix had heard stories of banishment happening to other kids and never fathomed that he would end up being one of them. No matter how many times he begged, his parents refused to reveal the
reason why they were rejecting him. He could never forget the words spewing from his father’s mouth.
“You’re worthless to us,” James Harcourt yelled at him.
“Dad, why are you saying that,” Phoenix cried.
“Don’t call me that,” James snapped. “Don’t refer to me as your father. You are not mine.” Phoenix had never seen the look of anger and hate on his father’s face before. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he looked at his mother and brother, his eyes begging for them to say something in his defense. To talk some sense into his father.
“Mom, please,” he begged. Lilith went to move, but Tony clamped a hand down on her shoulder. “Go, Phoenix, just leave us alone and whatever you do, do not come back,” she told him then turned her back to him. Tony wrapped his arms around her and whispered in her ear.
“I’m giving you fifteen minutes to get your shit and get the hell out of my house,” James told him.
“Da— ” The sound of a loud crack reaching his ear stopped him when he realized what he heard was his father’s hand meeting his cheek. The sting made him understand that his father was not the man he thought he was.
“Do as I say, boy.”
Phoenix nodded and ran to his room, grabbing everything he could fit in one bag, including his three-month supply of suppressant pills, and ran out of his parents’ house without looking back.
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Meet the Author
Giovanna (Gia) Reaves is my alter ego, who is a dreamer. I spend my days and nights dreaming and thinking of the worlds I want to create with words. I started writing about three years ago, when I was introduced to the world of fan fiction. I loved the idea of creating a new world around characters that people already knew about. And ones that are original of my own making. I have written two novels and a few free stories. I am a mother, wife, and a military veteran. I enjoy trying new things such as
traveling, cooking, and reading. I try to incorporate some of the things I have experienced into my books.
Currently living in Newport, RI with my two favorite men. If I am not hidden in my cave writing, I love to read and spend time with my hubby and son. I love listening to R and B along with neo-soul when I am writing. When I'm not writing, I am trying to perfect my baking and decorating skills or try to pick up something new. I love spending time with my husband and son playing video games and traveling.
I love hearing from you, email me. 
Visit my website check out my blogs and free stories. 
Join my Facebook group: Gia's Secret Temptations or just follow me Gia Reaves on facebook.
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