The Sigma Menace Series (Paperback)

Fever Claim (book 1)
Can he turn one night into forever?

After being ditched only weeks before her wedding, Cassie Stackwell wasn’t out looking for a hookup. Then the devastatingly handsome bartender she’d been trying not to obsess over for months offered to give her a ride home. What could one night hurt?

When his future was almost taken away after one impulsive decision, wolf-shifter and ex-con Jace Miller waited patiently for months before making a move on the woman he knew to be his destined mate. But will one night of passion keep his little human by his side once she learns of his world and the danger it brings to her doorstep?

Primal Claim (book 2)
She's having his baby and they've never met.

After losing her family to feral shifters, Dani dedicated her life to eradicating those responsible, almost reaching Agent status with Sigma. Uncertainty about the network, and questions about their purpose were plaguing her when she was tasked with a mission that would forever change her and send her running toward those she once sought to destroy.

Mercury’s past and unique looks kept him distant from people, including those of his own species. Then he captured a beautiful Sigma recruit who claimed to need his help while her scent claimed to be carrying his young.

Bitter enemies brought together, they must rely on each other to keep Sigma from getting their hands on Dani, or the growing life inside of her.

True Claim (book 3)
He was betrayed once...

Over a century ago, Bennett Young had a mate, a human woman he trusted and was brutally betrayed by. With his one chance at happiness gone, Bennett throws himself into his work. He dreads the inevitable day he turns feral and his partners will be forced to put him down, then a routine mission brings him face-to-face with his worst nightmare. A human mate. The lovely, but evasive woman is being hunted, and Bennett can’t bring himself to abandon her, at least not until she’s safe.

Spencer King has a boy’s name and lives in the boondocks for a reason. The tall, sexy shifter who showed up on her doorstep was unwelcome…and pushy. The mating instinct she feels for him threatens everyone she’s worked to keep safe. Realizing the frustrating, brooding Guardian doesn’t intend to leave her alone, Spencer has to figure out if she can trust him, and to decide: stay and fight, or run for her life?

Lawful Claim (book 4)
He was dead to her. Literally.

Agent E wasn’t always an evil Sigma Agent. Even though evil had her claws in him, he couldn’t help but hang on to his past and watch over the family he lost, protecting them by staying dead to them. Until one night, he interfered.
When Ana Esposito’s life, and that of her son, was saved by the husband she had buried over a decade ago, her world irrevocably changed. Again. Any chance of safety for her and her son lay with the hardened man that used to be the love of her life.

Pure Claim (book 5)
She's so much more than a killer.

Alexandria King’s life was ripped away, destroyed by the evil organization Sigma, and one of its most vile leaders, Madame G. Alexandria was imprisoned, tortured, conditioned, and trained to become one of Sigma’s finest Agents - Agent X. Except, despite what Sigma ordered, Agent X’s only mission became keeping the secret of her bloodline, and using it to destroy Madame G. She’s willing to sacrifice everything to carry it out, even her own chance at happiness with her destined mate.

Rhys Fitzsimmons isn’t willing to let the vivacious, frustrating female who is supposed to be his mate throw her life away, even for such a noble cause. When her single-minded mission almost destroys her before she can carry out her destiny, he breaks all the rules to save her. But her destiny was not as they were led to believe, and the real threat to their relationship is bigger than either of them could have known.

Fever Claim (book 1), Chapter 1 preview

“Hey, hot bartender!” Cassie lifted her empty shot glass. “Another absolutely Screwed over here.”

If she wasn’t on her third shot, she was pretty sure she wouldn’t be calling the bartender anything. Or leaning over the bar to bare a little extra cleavage, a category she wasn’t doing so bad in. But the name of the mandarin vodka orange juice drink and getting dumped on her ass by her fiancé two weeks before the wedding, well, they just seemed to go together, and tonight she wasn’t going to analyze it.

Hot Bartender flicked his intense gaze to hers and gave a slight nod. Cassie slid off the surface of the bar and plopped back onto her bar stool with a sigh.

What’d you expect? She examined her empty glass, dejected by his lack of interest. She came into Pale Moonlight pretty frequently. It was her bestie Kaitlyn’s favorite hangout. In all the times she’d been in here the last ten months, she scarcely had the courage to even look at Hot Bartender. Of course, several of those times had been with her fiancé, oops—ex-fiancé, Grant, so it’s not like she’d been looking for male attention. Hot Bartender was in a different category of male and she was positive his attention would also be a different category. But his brand of male attention was not on her.
He barely acknowledged her each time he set her drink down in front of her.

Cassie knew she wasn’t his type, or anyone else’s in this establishment, with its high ratio of tall, brawny males and underdressed females. Pale Moonlight had a reputation for being austere, and not just in aesthetics.
The shockingly gorgeous men and women who owned and worked the club were notorious for not tolerating fights, unwanted groping (because it was obvious there was a lot of wanted groping), or illicit dealings of the illegal variety. Regardless, the club had a lot of loyalty with the local crowd.

The majority of that loyalty had to do with the back rooms dubbed The Den. Cassie had heard bits of gossip of what went on in those rooms. Hell, she’d seen enough to support the whispers—heavily muscled men leading scantily clad, eager women off the dance floor, disappearing into the hallway leading to the rooms that made up The Den. She’d watched with interest as those same men led the women back out, supporting them on their now weak, unsteady legs. Cassie dubbed them Jelly Girls because of their rubbery legs. The women always appeared to be in a state of postcoital bliss, with rumpled outfits and bedroom hair. They were passed on to the employees, who took the charges from there, leading them back to their group or out of the club.
She’d watched astonished as the men would then beckon another interested, underdressed, attractive woman and disappear with her back down the hallway.

Being a psychologist for a living, she sometimes forgot she wasn’t beyond being shocked. To each their own. They all seemed to be consenting enough. Cassie gave a mental snort. At least someone was going to consent tonight, probably over and over again, too.

“What’s with the hard liquor tonight, Tinkerbell?” a smooth, deep voice asked her.

With a start, Cassie’s gaze flew up and realized the panty-melting voice came from Hot Bartender. A new drink was in front of her, and so was he, leaning on both arms on the bar.

Alcohol fueling her courage and taking advantage of his proximity, she let her eyes roam over him. When she first came in here all those months ago and saw him behind the bar, she was too pussy to even look directly at him since her first impression was of the sheer masculinity he possessed. He was probably close to six and a half feet tall; imposing enough compared to her five and a half feet. She knew his eyes were the palest blue, like ice, and his head was shaved, but this close she could see the dark stubble covering his scalp and chiseled jaw. Thick, short, dark lashes rimmed his eyes and he possessed equally dark arching eyebrows.

She was following the intricate artwork tatted into the muscles on the side of his neck and running down into his tight-fitting shirt. Mmmm… bet his body is a work of art judging from the fit of his shirt. He must be nothing but muscles and ink and more muscles. How far does that ink travel down? Are those scars under the tattoos? That’s hot.

“Tinkerbell?” he repeated. Cassie’s gaze flew back up to his face. He cocked an eyebrow and there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. A flush of embarrassment worked up her neck to her face. Oh hell. She took and swallowed the shot.

“Uh, what?” The Absolutely Screwed drink was more accurate than ever. Hot Bartender just busted her ogling and that was another thing Pale Moonlight didn’t tolerate, making any advances on their staff. It happened (duh! look at them), but when the woman was leggy, with fuck-me hair and stripper heels in a painted-on dress, well they got away with more. Cassie was medium height, too curvy to wear anything formfitting—well, she could (and she’d rock it, thank you very much) but men’s hooker radars started to malfunction and she would have to slap someone. So she usually just wore her clothes from work; they were as sedate and boring as she was. Adding to that image was her non-highlighted, uncolored plain brown hair in a low-maintenance pixie cut. Speaking of which—

“Did you just call me Tinkerbell?”

The other eyebrow rose up to meet the first cocked brow. “Yeah, it fits you.”

“Does it?” she uttered, a little dumbstruck. Hot Bartender was flirting with her. Hopes… almost up… nah, it was his job. She shrugged. “Well, I guess there’s worse things to be called. Can I get another Absolutely Screwed, please?”

“One more coming right up. But that’s all, Tink. When they hit you, it’ll be fast and hard.”

“Well, that’s how I like it, Hot Bartender,” Cassie said, a bit irritated. Did he cut everyone off after three—four?—shots? She was a grown ass woman. One who just got left at the altar, no less. Keep. Them. Coming.