(SAMPLE CHAPTERS ONLY!) Previously known as Way of the Wolf: Oria "He watched her the way I watched him, full of a longing for the one we could never have." ~ Oria was used to being nothing but a shadow on the wall to most wolves, and she was good at it. For most of her life, she's been taught to keep her head down, stay quiet and draw minimal attention to herself. Her past has left a dark cloud over her, one she's been unable to get away from despite her best friend's attempt to help. With Cathwulf now an Alpha Female, it's shone somewhat of a spotlight on Oria, one that seems to have caught the attention of the new Beta, despite him having his eyes and heart held by Cathwulf...his best friend's mate. Oria knows she can be more than she's settled for, but fear keeps her locked in place. Yet her wolf has become uncontent with being bottom of the pack and pushes her to fight her way up the ranks. Yet how can you fight things that have been drilled into you since birth? Beta Quillan has a dark past of his own, one that he fights with every second of every day, which draws Oria's own broken wolf towards him. A healer and a Beta, both more alike than they think

Eallair had bumped through life, following Tor's lead, but with the date for his own visit to the proving grounds looming, he needs to be sure of his own heart. Unfortunately, with his gift playing havoc with his eyesight, and the glare of others auras ensuring a constant migraine, it's proving difficult to focus on what he wants from life. It seemed easier to down a bottle of absinthe and pass out in a stranger's bed, than to worry about whether or not he should even be taking the trials. But maybe the trials were the answer to his problems; hadn't the Taghadairean taken Deòthas's magic as her sacrifice? Maybe they would take his gift too. And if they found him unworthy? Well, then he wouldn't need to worry about anything ever again. Tancred couldn't remember the last time he felt happy. Being chief had always been an honour, but after millennia of life, he was beginning to feel tired, stretched thin; his weariness went into his very soul. If he'd been another chief, in another time, he might have fallen on his sword, but as so many people kept reminding him, the Comhairle couldn't afford a change of leadership. The nobles would use his fall to justify the disbandment of the Council, and with evil still gathering, no one could afford that. Even warrior chiefs need something to live for, though. The lull left in the wake of the Manipulator's death was only ever going to provide a temporary peace. Raghnall had gone to ground. Cailean's demonic sponsors were unlikely to abandon their quest for chaos simply because one minion had fallen. The question? Who was going to make the next move, and can the Comhairle come through the next battle unscathed?

Picked for the WattVamps February Showcase & now a Wattpad Dark Fantasy featured story! The Risen Series - Book 1 Rebellion I've been a cardholding member of the undead for centuries, torn away from the sun by a vampire with no care for human life. From the moment I opened my eyes to the night and had my first craving for blood, my Maker twisted and moulded me into exactly what he wanted; trapping me in his hold. Until one day he let me go. Content to live out eternity as no more than a shadow, I do my best to stay out of trouble. But trouble always had a way of finding me. During a hunt, I run into another vampire doing his best to go unnoticed; one so ancient the air around him reeks of power, and he claims he's just escaped imprisonment from the very council that used me to their own ends. Atanas demands I help him until he regains his strength so he can finish what he started a century ago, but I'm not sure that's all he wants from me. And while I'm no supporter of the council he seeks vengeance against, there are secrets that bind my life to theirs, and I know better than most that disloyalty means death. But in the shadows, a rebellion has been brewing, and I might be more important to both sides than I could ever have imagined.

I was born the day Boudicca fell. My whole life I lived in fear of the day when Rome's armies would march northwards, into our unconquered lands. It felt inevitable. If the legions came, people would die. Farms and forts would be burned to the ground. Free people would become slaves overnight, and to stop such cruelty, the chiefs of the northern tribes would be asked to kneel, to swear fealty to an Emporer the people didn't recognise. Or we could fight. War was coming. I'd known that from the first moment I could know anything, but time was finally running out. And why now? Why, when Roman progress in Britannia had been thwarted so many times, did their reach now extend beyond the land of the Brigantes? It started with Andraste, goddess of war and victory. She turned her back of those she was sworn to protect, all for the love of a warrior far beneath her station. She condemned Boudicca, and all the fallen kings, queens, and chieftains that followed in the footsteps of the Iceni queen. I could hate the gods for their betrayal, but as a slave was about to show me, the sway of love was not something to be underestimated. So the question became this; could love survive the wrath of the gods?

TBC

Illustrations to accompany the novel 'Bite the Bullet : Vampire Cohorts Book One'. These illustrations are by the original author, Angela Louise McGurk.

TBC

Leof was gone. I wanted to scream again at the thought. My Leof was dead, laid out in the shrine where I'd left him just before dawn. It hadn't taken an army to kill him, all it had taken was one wolf, one man whom he'd shown mercy to. Fenrir had done his job just as predicted, and I'd lost the only thing that mattered to me, the only thing that had kept me sane after the truth of my past was revealed. Conn was my strength, my heart, the very best parts of me and I'd never see him again. Once his body was given to the sun and his echo vanished I'd never hear him say the three words that were my reason to exist. I love you. I love you. I love you... But I'm not ready to let be alone. I'm not ready for goodbye. Condemning my Leof to Valhalla is something I can't do, but what if there's no way to bring him back? Can I just fade away? Slip into the coma and forget everything? Would it be fair to when the cohort needs me to protect them from Osier, from the Bloodied Hand, and from our ever increasing number of enemies?