The King's Men

Neil Josten is the newest addition to the Palmetto State University Exy team. He's short, he's fast, he's got a ton of potential - and he's the runaway son of the murderous crime lord known as the Butcher. Signing a contract with the PSU Foxes is the last thing a guy like Neil should do. The team is high profile, and he doesn't need sports crews broadcasting pictures of his face around the nation. His lies will hold up only so long under this kind of scrutiny, and the truth will get him killed.  

Harrison Phillip Fletcher III isn't supposed to be here. Not in Burlington, Vermont, not running Vino & Veritas, a quaint inclusive bookstore and wine bar, and definitely not still alive, at 42. Also not supposed to be here? An unexpected delivery of chickens. Finn Barnes knows chickens. The burly organic farmer knows all about rare breed poultry, but dealing with a hot older bookseller is an entirely different matter. City-slicker types like Harrison never end up staying in Vermont for the long-term. They should steer clear of each other. But the flare of attraction is mutual. 

As a sorority pledge, there are commandments that Katie Vickery must live by. One: Thou shalt not show up for the party without a date. Two: The guy shall be an athlete, preferably an upperclassman. Unfortunately, Katie just broke up with her jerkface football player boyfriend. Even worse, her last encounter with him resulted in utter humiliation. She'd rather hide under the bed than attend a party where he'll be. Yet staying home would mean letting him win.

Catch up with the original monster-human couple, Danny and Wyn, in their Wastes-style adventures. Witness Moth and Wyn's blossoming and potentially concerning friendship. Find out all the new ways Edin has been frustrating Hunter (lovingly) since their story ended. And join Lor and Jugs in welcoming a new furry addition to their monster-world family.

I'm trapped in the middle of nowhere with the sexiest man I've ever seen... what could possibly go wrong? My family sent me here thinking it would help lift my mood. When I think about it now, I realise I didn’t give nearly enough thought to what it would be like, or what I’d be doing on a farm. If anything, I had a vague, nebulous notion that it would be like some sort of retreat. Boy, was I wrong. Far from relaxing, I now find myself tending to actual sheep. If you knew me at all, you’d know how preposterous that is.