QSFer Katy Manz has a new MM paranormal mpreg book out, GSC in Love book 3: I Ain’t Lyin’.
Omega Lion shifter Leo woke up with no memory of the night beforeand the body of his ex laying in a puddle of blood in the bathroom.
Alpha Dragon shifter Ashton found his fated mate. Unfortunately, he’s the shifter Ashton is meant to bring in for a crime.
I Ain’t Lyin’ is the third book in the sweet with knotty heat MM shifter mpreg romance series: GSC In Love. It features an omega lion shifter in trouble, an alpha dragon shifter sent to find the truth, a mystery to unravel, and a guaranteed happily-ever-after.
Get It At Amazon
Excerpt
Bang. Bang. Bang.
A billion hammers pounded away at my aching skull. The acidy taste of bile built up in my dry mouth, but I couldn’t muster the strength to get up and get to my bathroom. I felt like death. An army of daggers was slicing through every inch of my body and head.
Fuck. What did I do last night?
I tried to garner enough energy to move my arms but failed. Invisible lead weights were tied to them. My eyelids were heavy, like they were stuck together with molasses. My thoughts were hazy and broken, and I couldn’t remember anything since having lunch on Friday. Was it still Friday? Did Saturday start already? I freaked out because I realized I was missing pieces of memory. I felt victimized by my mind.
What is wrong with me? Why can’t I remember why I ended up here or even where here is?
Poking my inner lion to see if he knew what was going on, silence met me. Concentrating on reaching deeper, his presence was there. I heard the light snore of the beast and felt myself relax just a bit. He was numb and asleep, but he was still within me. He was soaking in some of my pain and needed to protect both of us through rest, and I would leave him be for the moment. If only an IV of ibuprofen and caffeine magically appeared beside me to cure my migraine, but I’m not that fortunate.
Finally able to pry open my eyes enough to glance around me, white and beige walls covered in familiar pictures greeted me. Dark wooden furniture accented in blues, black-out curtains that covered two large bay windows, and the wooden, black headboard of the California King bed I was currently lying on told me I was not where I should be. I’d picked these things out years ago with Harvey and blended in a few new things as the years progressed, like the midnight-blue throw blanket on the wicker rocking chair in the corner. But Harvey and I were no longer together. We hadn’t been for a few months, and I definitely shouldn’t be sleeping in his bed.
Oh God, please tell me I didn’t have sex with my ex last night.
Fear and anxiety started rolling over me as I breathed in and smelled the musky scent of tobacco and leather. Harvey’s favorite cologne was one I wouldn’t forget after a decade together. This couldn’t be happening. I’d left. I’d finally decided to leave Harvey and the chaos of our relationship. And I felt joy again in being alone. I would not have agreed to return to him, even for the night.
Disgusting, ugly thoughts swam in my mind. Did I drink too much? Did he drug me? Why can’t I remember anything past noon and receiving the phone call from Harvey asking to meet up to finalize the separation and cut all strings? Was it a trick?
No, Harvey wouldn’t do that. He was a bit chaotic in financial matters and had no goals in life, but he never cheated and never abused me. And I couldn’t see him pulling a stunt like that. But then, why am I here?
Luckily, I wore the gray Henley and dark-blue jeans I had put on Friday morning before heading out to run errands. I sniffed myself and still smelled the spiciness of my Frankincense and Myrrh oils. That was further proof that nothing sexual happened between us. But what was I doing here, and where was Harvey? The space next to me was empty and cold. He hadn’t slept with me.
I stood to search for my ex. Even if I was fully dressed, he had some explaining to do. Like, why can’t I remember anything from last night? My cell phone was next to the bed and showed it was ten a.m. That was a lot of memory to be missing.
Boom. Boom. Bang.
What the fuck was that? I fell back on the bed as loud pounding came through the apartment door. Forbidding filled my veins.
“Police! Open up!” a loud and aggressive voice shouted from the other side, and another bang followed.
Shit. What the hell is happening?
“We’re coming in,” the gruff man shouted again.
The splitting of wood, the crashing of the door, and the rumble of multiple sets of feet storming into the apartment overwhelmed and stunned me.
Men in uniform stood before the bed and pointed their weapons at me.
“Put your arms in the air and don’t move.” The harsh demand immediately followed, and two officers stepped hesitantly closer to me. “Is there anyone else in the apartment?”
“I—I don’t think so.” I hesitated because, without my memory, I had no clue, but I didn’t know if the police would care why I couldn’t answer their inquiries.
“Check the rest of the studio.” The tall, raven-haired officer, who smelled like he was from one of the big-cat clans, ordered the men behind him to search the bathroom.
The officers searched the small apartment but refused to give me any information regarding what they sought. A small non-shifter officer stepped close to the captain who had been giving all the orders, whispering in his ear.
Captain Bossy Pants glanced at me before nodding to the officers surrounding us. Walking across the room, he stepped into the bathroom, only to return with a harsh set to his lips and a frosty glare in his eyes. His ire focused directly on me. My anxiety spiked, and my intuition screamed for me to keep quiet until I got legal representation and to pray to the goddess for protection. Before he opened his mouth to speak, I knew I was in deep, serious trouble.
What did you do, Harvey?
“Are you Leo Wilson?” The officer stopped just a few inches from me and snarled.
“I am.” I was unsure how they knew my name, but I couldn’t deny that it was my name.
“Leo Wilson, you are under arrest for the murder of Harvey Larson and possession of illicit drugs. You have the right to remain silent—”
Whiteness blanketed my vision, a high-frequency buzz overshadowed all the noise, and my stomach rolled. One final thought played across my mind before I lost consciousness.
Harvey is dead?
Author Bio
Katy Manz has always dreamed of being a romance writer. She wants to bring the stories created in her mind to a world of readers who will fall in love with her characters as much as she has. Keep looking for more books in this series and future series to come.
Sign up for her newsletter at https://bookhip.com/SANLGMH
Follow Katy Manz on Amazon at http://www.amazon.com/author/katymanz
| Author Website | https://www.katwritesthebooks.com |
|---|---|
| Author Facebook | https://www.facebook.com/share/CT38dhQc11MAVQFv/ |
| Author Twitter | http://www.twitter.com/katymanzwrites |