Welcome to our Grand Finale celebrations for the amazing
In our final post, we will take a look at the Reclamation series. We also have our author interview and one more chance to win.
First up, F*ck Forgiveness
When reformed shifter Danny comes back to Texas as part of his twelve-step program, Declan couldn't be less interested in forgiving him. Declan thinks Danny got scared when he left five years ago, and has labelled his ex a coward. When he finds out differently, though, Dec sets about letting Danny know he's welcome to come home anytime. Can Danny believe in Declan enough to stay?
A huge blue pickup truck pulled up next to him, the heavy engine growling like his empty belly. He ignored it as long as he could, moving farther and farther over on the paved shoulder, until he was walking in the tall grasses. Just about the time he was about to bolt, to turn and run until he died, the window slid down and Declan barked at him, “Get in.”
He looked over, surprised. “Why?”
“Because you’re not riding the bus during the moon, ‘cured’ or not.” The way Dec said cured made it sound like a horrible disease.
“It’s close. The ride out here was longer than I’d thought.” He stepped closer, the scent of Declan an addiction, even more than the sight of those emerald eyes.
“It is. Come on, Danny. Get in.” There was no hamburger smell to make him nauseated, so he let Declan convince him.
Like it’s so hard. That little voice whispered to him, the sound wicked, almost joyous. Like you don’t want it.
The interior of the cab was cool and smelled like home and he settled in, closed the door, and put on his seat belt. “Thank you for the ride.” Not that he knew exactly where they were going.
“You do know that grapes are bad for us, right?” Dec wasn’t looking at him, and that jaw was like steel, clenched tight.
“What?” He ate a lot of grapes.
“They’re poisonous to canine and lupine species, Danny.” He would swear he could hear Dec’s knuckles creak, as white as they were on those hands clenched on the steering wheel.
“I don’t change anymore, though. I’m making the wolf be quiet.” Hours of agony and starvation and hunger and meditation and he’d done it. Made the animal behave.
“Why?” The question came out flat, hard. Declan had never understood why the wolf frightened him. Dec had always embraced it, all the way. It was one of the things that drew Danny to him.
“Because I can’t control it. I can’t stop myself from doing terrible things then.” He wrapped his arms around his middle. “I’ve been working very hard at making myself…” Right wasn’t the right word. Or whole. Or even healthy. He also discarded pure and human. “Stable.”
Declan shook his head. “It’s not healthy.”
“And a double burger with extra fries is?” He dared the tease.
“No, but it least it has protein.” They headed out of town, out toward the ranch. He remembered this road; he remembered the smell and the way the bumps on the road felt, even though Declan’s truck was brand new.
“Beans have protein.” His stomach snarled audibly, trying to crawl up his throat.
“Grits are not beans. Neither are grapes.” They turned off on the ranch road, and everything started to look eerily familiar. It made his head hurt. He didn’t know what to do, where to look. This had been home.
He dreamed about coming here.
“You’re vibrating, Danny. Just chill. If you can handle this for forty-eight hours, ride out the moon in your new way, then I will sign your fucking paper and send you back on the bus.”
“Really?” He looked over, licking his lips compulsively. “Thank you.” He figured Declan wanted to punish him for two days, but he could accept that. He’d earned it. He’d survived worse.
“Don’t thank me yet, Danny-boy. You’re gonna be in the middle of nowhere with your discarded mate.” The nasty curl of those pretty lips made his heart skip a little.
He didn’t imagine anything Declan would do to him could be as bad as what the first years of training had been. He’d been mad for months, starving and hurting. Every time he’d started to change they’d shocked him, woken him. Dunked him in ice baths. Tied him behind… His mind skittered away from the thoughts.
He’d learned to cope.
Forty-eight hours was nothing.
“Just tell me what you need me to do to make this easiest on you.”
“Be a wolf.” That got him a red hot glance from Declan’s green eyes, so bright they almost glowed.
“You know I won’t do that.” He was fairly sure he couldn’t even do it, anymore.
“Well, then don’t lie and say you want to make it easy on me.” The drive to the ranch still had the cattle guard and the big pothole on the right side.
“I’m not lying.” He tried very hard to keep the snarl out of his voice. Very hard.
“Uh-huh. Well someone has to be. I’m guessing it’s your mom and whatever quacks are making you think this is living.” The truck threw up gravel when it slid to a stop in front of the rustic frame house.
“I’m trying to control my baser urges, God damn it.” Rage started bubbling up in him and he fought to swallow back the bile.
“Well, I guess that means at least that you weren’t out fucking around on me.” Declan got out and came around to yank him out of the truck.
“I wouldn’t!” He grabbed his pack and pulled away from the threat of that touch. His entire body felt like he was on high alert. “Don’t touch me. I’m coming.”
“Not yet.” At least that was what he thought he heard Declan say.
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Book 2, No Time To Lie
Marshall and Ben believe their mate, Jakob, has been killed. When Jakob escapes from a cult, there is nothing that will stop them from reclaiming him.
Someone answered immediately and accepted the charges, no question, then he heard a soft voice, one he’d known since birth. Granny Wendy. “Marshall? Marshall, son? Is that you?”
“Yes, ma’am. Is everyone all right?” Usually the Alpha was there, barking orders about them coming home.
“No. No, I… Jakob was here. I thought he was dead, lost to us.”
His heart dropped right to his feet. Boom. Dizzy, Marsh groped out with one hand. “What?”
“He was here. He came here, son. He looks… he’s a ghost, lost, broken, but he was here.”
“Was.” He made his dry lips move. “Where is he now?”
“I told him where you were and he ran. He was hunting you and Ben.” She dropped her voice. “I’m not crazy, Marshall. I’m not imagining it. He was here, he hugged me, he let me hold his hand. Someone cut off one of his fingers. If I imagined him, I wouldn’t know that.”
“Jesus. His finger?” He searched for Ben, needing his lover. Now.
Ben was there, all of the sudden, staring at him with a deep growl. He reached out to take Ben’s hand.
“Yes. I-- he was scared of the pack, Marshall. Said he could only talk to me.”
“Scared of the pack? Our pack?” Nonsense. They’d left, of course, but only because they were broken, cracked at the cellular level. They needed to be free. That was the only way he and Ben could work without Jakob. They couldn’t indulge the pack structure and be mates.
“Yes. Terrified. Ashamed. Scared.”
“Do you know how he meant to get here, Granny?”
“He was on foot. Wearing a pair of coveralls like an inmate. Skinny, gray -- he was heading for you.”
“We have to find him.” They -- Not dead. Jakob wasn’t dead. Why had he left? Where the fuck had he gone?
“Find who? Marsh? What the everloving fuck?” Ben’s eyes burned, stared into him.
“I have to go, Gran. I’ll call you after we find him.” He hung up, then turned to Ben, anguish making him nauseated. “Jakob came to her today. He’s alive.”
Ben stared at him, a dull flush climbing up his neck. “No.”
“She says it’s him. Someone cut off his finger, babe.” He could hardly take it in. “She says he’s coming to find us.”
“No. No. You saw the body. We saw the body.”
“I know. But it was so burned…” Could this be real? They had to check it out. Had to. They couldn’t just leave it to chance if Jakob was looking for them. Poor baby had no sense of direction at all.
“It’s not possible. He wouldn’t leave us.”
“Why would he do that?” He started to shake, but Marsh wasn’t sure if it was sorrow or rage.
“He wouldn’t. He’s dead. I’m going home.”
“Ben! When has Granny ever lied to us? Ever? She swore she wasn’t crazy. Said he was wearing like a prison jumpsuit. What if something awful happened?”
That seemed to get through to Ben, who blinked and nodded. “Where is he? With her?”
“No, he’s coming to find us.” That would be a disaster. A terrible one.
“Our Jakob? He couldn’t find his ass with both hands and a handful of fishhooks.”
“Exactly.” Marsh knocked Ben on the shoulder. “Get road snacks.”
“Pork rinds, Cheetos, and beef jerky?”
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And book 3, Free To Run
When forest ranger Gil gets the call that a rabid wolf is roaming his territory, he figures it's just another stray coyote. Instead, he finds Rafe, a skinny, worn wolf shifter who also happens to be Gil's lost mate. Gil thought Rafe was dead, killed by hunters years ago, so finding Rafe alive, if not well, comes as quite a shock.
Rafe never thought he would escape the compound where the crazy bastards who were trying to reform shifters held him. With a little luck and a lot of help, he's made his way back to Gil, who he never forgot, no matter what those men did to him. The problem is, he's not sure Gil knows what to do with a beat up former lover.
Gil and Rafe have to work together to recapture what was lost, and maybe find something new.
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See more of BA's books here.
1. What inspires you? What gets you writing?
Well, writing is my full time job, so partially? The mortgage. Grins. Mainly though, I have this set of boys or girls that just beg to written and they won’t leave me alone unless I do.
I write for sleep.
2. What's your writing process? Seat of your pants, lots of sticky notes, complex spreadsheets?
I’m an index card girl. I admit it. I scene out a book, write it all on index cards, bind them, use them until one of the dogs steals them, then I finish the book and pray I remember what I’d planned.
3. Which character from your books is your favorite, and why?
I always say that Coke Pharris from the Roughstock series is my soul muse. He is, weirdly, the character that’s most like me and most like I want to be. Sonny from the Road Trip series? I named my dog after him.
4. Which character is your least favorite, and why?
I just finished writing a book about a stalker that is loosely based on an ex. Nuff said.
5. If you could go back into one of your books and change one thing, what would that be? And why?
I would have written my first book, Stress Relief, from beginning to end, not in little scenes.
6. What's next for you? What amazing book are you working on?
Right this second I’m working on a long, meaty BDSM relationship romance with Jodi Payne and a light, funny novel about a cowboy that runs a wolf sanctuary and the dog-phobic photographer sent to the ranch to shoot pictures.
7. Anything else you'd like to share with your readers?
I love y’all. Thank you for letting me do what I do.
About the author:
Texan to the bone and an unrepentant Daddy’s Girl, BA Tortuga spends her days with her basset hounds and her beloved wife, texting her sisters, and eating Mexican food. When she’s not doing that, she’s writing. She spends her days off watching rodeo, knitting and surfing Pinterest in the name of research. BA’s personal saviors include her wife, Julia Talbot, her best friend, Sean Michael, and coffee. Lots of coffee. Really good coffee.
Having written everything from fist-fighting rednecks to hard-core cowboys to werewolves, BA does her damnedest to tell the stories of her heart, which was raised in Northeast Texas, but has heard the call of the high desert and lives in the Sandias. With books ranging from hard-hitting GLBT romance, to fiery menages, to the most traditional of love stories, BA refuses to be pigeon-holed by anyone but the voices in her head.
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Thank you for celebrating this fabulous author with us all month long. We hope you had a good time and found some more books for your TBR, while learning some fun facts about BA Tortuga.
Until next time, happy reading!