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Broken Prime


Broken Prime

Prime Series

Tiffany Allee



Broken Prime

Check out Prime Desire….

Chapter 1

Claiming Their Royal Mate – Sneak Peek

Also by Tiffany Allee

About the Author

For adults only. This is an erotic romance that contains material that is not suitable for children.


This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.


Copyright © 2014 by Tiffany Allee. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means.


Edited by Smashing Edits

Cover design by Fiona Jayde


First Edition September 2014


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When Evie loses her way in the woods during a terrible storm, she is determined not to die. But snow and darkness close in and all seems lost—until a stranger finds her. Warm and safe at his cabin, she can’t help notice how sexy her rescuer is, and things go from warm to scorching hot.


But Nicolas lives alone on the mountain for a reason. And his secrets may be more dangerous to Evie than the cold.

Broken Prime

Evie Lane refused to die at twenty-one.

Panic pushed her pace to a jog, but though the whited-out landscape flew by faster, nothing looked familiar. Snow continued to fall, and she cursed loudly, blinking back tears that threatened to burn their way down her cheeks.

So stupid to tell the others to go ahead on their snowshoe trek. The sun had been out, the cabin smoke clearly visible in the sky, and she hadn’t realized there was zero cell service to be found. If she’d done what she’d said, taken a few pictures and caught up with her friends a little ways down the trail, things would have been fine. But she’d gotten distracted. Found a few shots she couldn’t resist. Decided to wait a little longer until the sun was perfect in the sky, providing just the right angle to the light.

And then the sun disappeared.

The storm rolled in so quickly, she’d barely noticed the first cloud on the horizon before the entire sky blotted out. She’d trudged on, even as snow started to fall, in the same direction the other girls had gone. When it got too dark to really see where she was going, she’d relied on their trail in the snow. Then the fresh snow piled high so fast that the trail disappeared, and she wasn’t even sure she was headed the right direction.

She forced a deep breath, then shivered violently. The air was cold, and her feet colder. She’d lost a glove at some point when she was still taking pictures, and her pocket didn’t seem to do much to keep out the chill.

Exhaustion seeped into her as she slowed to a walk.

“Help!” she yelled—or tried to. Her voice was wispy and thin after hours of calling out for her friends.

She crumpled in front of a tree and leaned against the solid wood, putting her face between her knees.

So tired.

The angry howl of the wind around her seemed to insulate her from the world, and for a while, time stood still. Regret filled her. She should have listened to her parents, gone with them to Europe. Might have been stressful, watching them try not to fight in front of her the whole time, but it would have been safe. Heck, she could have stayed at the dorm, used her break to study.

She’d wanted an adventure.

“Hey. Hey?”

Someone shook her, dragging her back into reality. She opened her eyes. The area around her was almost as dark as the one behind her eyelids. But she could make out a form, large and human-shaped, kneeling in front of her.

“I’m going to pick you up. Take you somewhere warm.”

Her mind moved slowly, and it took a few moments before she comprehended his words. But before she could nod in reply, the man had swept her into his arms and was moving. And either her perception was really messed up because of the cold and her freezing state, or the man moved fast.

Even with the wind blowing hard around them, with her face buried against his jacket, she could smell him. Masculine and wild, he smelled like the forest before the snow. His jacket was too light for the weather, but he didn’t seem to have been caught unaware like she had. He strode with confidence, never pausing to find his way.

Minutes later, they arrived. The thud of the door shutting behind them roused her from her half-stupor, and delicious heat stung her nose.

The man brought her close to the source, holding her while she warmed. He pulled her camera off her neck, tugged her boots from her feet and rubbed them, then did the same with her hands. Gradually, the world came back into focus.

The only source of light seemed to be the wood stove that burned somberly, but it was clear he’d brought her to a cabin even tinier than the one she’d rented with her girlfriends for their winter break from college. Theirs was made to look rustic. This one really was rustic, if the low lighting was anything to judge it by.

But the heat was welcome, as was the rescue. She squirmed a bit in her rescuer’s arms, but he continued to rub her feet, his motions slow and smooth, his big hands soothing the cold away.

“How do you feel?” he asked, his delicious baritone rolling over her in a way that made her shiver again, but not from the cold. The snow and wind had obviously addled her brain, because no way was she getting a little turned on from the guy’s voice alone. Especially not in her current state. Some kind of weird effect from the shock of it all.

Wordlessly, he helped her to her feet.

“I’m fine, thanks to you.” To her surprise, her voice came out strong, if a bit raspy from yelling so much earlier. She flexed her fingers, and wiggled her toes. “Seem to still have all my limbs.”

The man pulled off his hat and the mask he’d worn to protect his face from the cold. “Luckily for you, it’s warm tonight.”

Words escaped her for a moment, as she took in the man who’d saved her. His size had been apparent, even in her frozen, panicked state, but while he peeled off his coat, she had a moment to appreciate the rest of him. Big, yes. Not more than a few years older than her—maybe late twenties at the most. Chestnut hair brushed his shoulders, and his equally dark eyes sparkled in the low light.

Suddenly, his words hit her. “Warm? You call that warm?”

He chuckled, a sexy sound that filled the room. “Warm enough to snow.”

Whatever that meant. “Didn’t feel too toasty to me.”

“Like you said, you’ve got your fingers and your toes. What I can’t figure out is what an obvious city girl like you is doing all by herself in the mountains, freezing to death on my land.”

Heat crawled up her cheeks. “I didn’t know I was on your land. My friends and I, we’re renting a cabin,”—she waved vaguely—“somewhere around here. We’re on our winter break, thought it would be fun to come out here, hike around. Do a little skiing.” Mostly they’d wanted to hit on hot skier guys, but that hadn’t worked out so well since most of the snow bums they’d run into at the out-of-the-way ski resort had turned out to be less than panty-melting, and more stoners looking for women to buy them beer. That would teach them to book at the last minute, and to go somewhere not exactly known for catering to a lot of out-of-towners.

He snorted. “You wandered well off the path if you were headed for the rental cabins closer to the resort, city girl.”

His lack of seriousness about her near-death rankled. “Well, excuse me if I accidentally trespassed while trying not to die.”

“You’re excused.” He grinned. The expression took years off his face, and she mentally revised his age to a couple of years closer to her own.

“Well, thank you very much,” she replied, injecting as much sarcasm as she could into the words.

“You’re very welcome,” he said, still grinning.

She huffed at him and he laughed.

“Are you hungry, city girl?”

Her stomach rumbled in response. “It’s Evie.”

“I’ll warm us up some soup, Evie.” His gaze caught hers, and his amusement disappeared. “Evie,” he repeated, as if tasting her name. The moment was broken as he turned to tend the stove.

“What’s your name?” Maybe it was rude to ask anything of the man who’d already saved her life, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted to know way more about him than his name, actually, but she had to start somewhere.

“Nicolas,” he said. He didn’t turn around to face her. Instead, he lit a match, then used it to light what had to be a small oil lamp. She’d never seen such a thing outside of her great-grandmother’s house. And that was only because the cantankerous woman never threw anything away.

“Nicolas,” she repeated, under her breath. “I don’t suppose you have a phone here?”

“You don’t suppose right. Was it the oil lamp that gave my lack of technology away?”

Damn. The man had attitude. She liked that. Maybe this little excursion could be way more fun than she’d imagined. She was on vacation, after all—and she’d hoped to meet someone fun. Someone to spend a little time with, since her classes took nearly all of her time when she was home, and her family took the rest. Nicolas looked like a man a college senior could make some lasting memories with—heck, he looked like he could supply memories that might just get her through grad school, too.

While he made something that filled the cabin’s air with delicious scents, she stripped out of her winter gear, thankful her clothes beneath were still pretty dry. Now that her eyes had adjusted to the small amount of light from the stove and the oil lamp Nicolas had lit, she could see the true size of the place, and she hadn’t been mistaken about its rustic nature. One room, fairly small—no, two. A tiny room was framed off in one back corner. The bathroom? The wood stove took part of another wall, to the right of the entrance, next to the tiny kitchenette. A small window was the only thing that adorned the remaining wall—the sole window in the small building. It revealed little of the outside world. Just more snow and darkness. A couch and a small table with two chairs were the whole of his furniture, outside of the bed against the back wall.

She shivered, suddenly keenly aware of her predicament. Here she was, out in the middle of nowhere with a man who could wrestle her down with his pinky. If he had evil intentions, she was a goner. She couldn’t run, and fighting him would be laughable.

“Are you all right?”

The words came from close—too close—and she jumped a little. She turned and glared at the maybe-serial-killer.

“Way to sneak up on me.” She picked up her camera and removed the lens, then set both pieces closer to his front door where the wood stove’s heat wouldn’t reach them so readily.

“You looked worried.” He cocked his head to the side like a confused animal might. It was strangely endearing. “What is it?”

No, he didn’t intend her harm. Why would he save her only to kill her? Besides, he was a kind man—every instinct in her body said she could trust him. But she asked anyway. “You’re not a serial killer, right?”

He blinked. “What?”

“You heard me.” Yeah. Like he’d admit it if he was. Stupid.

“I’m not a serial killer. I haven’t killed anyone in months.” He paused, looking almost serious, then he smiled, melting something in her chest.

Damn, the man had a nice smile. She’d have to start fanning herself soon if he kept shooting those things her way. Instead, she laughed nervously. “Good.”

“Let’s eat, then.” He reached out, and after a brief moment of hesitation, she took his hand. His enveloped her own, but he held her lightly. A gentle giant.

After leading her back to the small table, he pulled out a chair for her. She sat, stomach fluttering from their brief touch.

The first bite of soup made her realize how hungry a few hours of hiking in freezing temperatures could make a person. Any ladylike veneer she’d hoped to maintain flew out the window, and she went through the stew like she hadn’t eaten in a week.

She felt his eyes on her the whole time. He watched her with a bemused expression. It should have been creepy to be stared at while she ate, but the humor and slight heat in his gaze didn’t make her uncomfortable. Although it did make her conscious of the fact that she was eating like a wild animal. After she slowed—her stomach finally catching on to the fact that it was full—he started in on his bowl, as if he’d waited to see her sated before taking care of himself.

“Don’t get a lot of guests, do you?” She pushed her enameled soup bowl away, resisting, just barely, the urge to lick it clean. Almost freezing to death totally justified a lack of table manners, but maybe not that big of a faux pas.


“That’ll teach you to live out in the middle of the woods.”

“Maybe I don’t like guests.” He quirked an eyebrow at her, daring her to disagree.

“You take awfully good care of the ones you do get for someone who doesn’t like people.”

He snorted. “What can I say? You’ve charmed me. Must be the way you slurp your soup.”

Throwing her napkin at his head, she tried to ignore the heat rushing up her neck at his comment. He just laughed and caught the napkin, then set it on the table.

“Okay, maybe I’m a little overdue for some company.” He hesitated. “It’s kind of nice…having someone around to talk to.”

The question was on the tip of her tongue. Why on earth did this beautiful man have no friends? Why was he in this cabin, all alone, in the middle of Nowhere, Colorado? It wasn’t like he was an old hermit—the guy had to be at least a few years shy of thirty. Yet here he was, as far away from civilization as a person could get in the modern age without going somewhere so inhospitable it would be difficult to live.

But there didn’t seem to be a nice way to ask all of that. It sounded insulting, and the last thing she wanted to do was offend the man who’d just saved her life, not to mention treated her so kindly afterward.

“I’m from California,” she said, deciding that changing the subject was the safest course of action.

“I can’t say that surprises me.”

“Was it the fact that I was alone, or the fact I got myself lost that clued you in?”

“Maybe it was your tan.” His teeth flashed, and she suddenly felt like Little Red Riding Hood—lost in the woods with only a wolf for company. A sexy wolf who she’d bet could do some very interesting things with his teeth.

A man who, if she didn’t miss her guess, was flirting with her. Nicolas had a definite twinkle in his eyes. What the hell? She was on vacation—why not explore a flirtation with a hermit-like mountain man who happened to be sexy as hell? If nothing else, it would make an interesting memory. “For all you know, this tan ends at my neck.”

He leaned forward, eyes locked on hers, flirtatious yet intense. “Maybe I should check.”

She licked her lips. “Maybe you should.”

He opened his mouth, then his grin faltered. He shook his head and grabbed their bowls, then walked over to place them in the kitchenette’s sink. Without turning around, he said, “Better clean these up.”

“Sure,” she managed. A little hurt, and not totally sure what she’d done to change his mood, she got up from the table and headed for his couch. She plopped down and did her best not to fidget while she waited for him to finish washing the dishes.

“I stay out here because I have to, not because I dislike people.” He walked so silently, she hadn’t even noticed him approach until he moved directly into her sight line. Wiping his hands on a dishtowel, he looked at her with a grave expression on his face. “I wouldn’t want you to expect…anything.”

He sat down on the couch next to her, while she tried to absorb his words.

Wow. Where the heck was this guy from—and who did he think he was? “Look, just because I flirted with you a little bit doesn’t mean that I’m trying to get you to leave your mountain and join me in civilization. Don’t you think you’re taking this a little bit too seriously? We’re just talking.” The guy really needed to get out more.

“Are we?” His voice was a low rumble, and the sound of it touched something deep inside of her, making her belly clench and her breath come quicker. “Because you make me want to do a lot more than talk.”

“Oh?” She failed at breezy, and her voice came out just as nervous as she felt.

Something in the air changed, shifted. He leaned toward her, slowly, giving her a chance to move away. “Yes. And I think you want that, too.”

She didn’t move. Couldn’t. No matter how crazy this was, she was suddenly dying for him to kiss her. And when his lips touched hers, she leaned into the gentle caress, wrapping her arms around his neck.

His lips were soft, but the pressure was deliciously demanding. And God, she hadn’t imagined how he smelled when he carried her here. Like the woods surrounding his cabin, wild and more than a little dangerous.

The scent filled her lungs, and suddenly she wasn’t close enough. She wrapped her arms tighter, running her fingers through his hair, gripping it to try to pull him closer.

With a low growl, he drew her onto his lap. She spread her thighs, placing her knees on the couch, to accommodate his legs. At the soft urging of his tongue, she opened her mouth.

Her whole body was on fire, and when he deepened the kiss, she felt his hard erection between her legs.

Nicolas broke off the kiss. “Ah, hell, Evie. We shouldn’t do this.”

“Why not?” The obvious reason hit her. “We’re both adults, Nicolas. If you’re worried you’re taking advantage of me—”

“That’s not it.” His grip tightened on her hips, and he avoided her gaze, eyes locked on her shoulder. “There are things about me you don’t know.”

“Dangerous things?” she teased, trying to lighten the mood.

His eyes jerked to meet hers, and there was no humor in his expression. “Yes.”

A flitter of worry touched her, but she ignored it. What secrets could this obviously caring, strong man have that should concern her? “We all have our secrets, Nicolas.”

“Not like mine.”

Was he just trying to get out of this? Maybe he didn’t like her, and his erection was just the normal, young male reaction to anything with boobs. She started to get up. “If you don’t want to—”

His grip tightened, almost painfully. “I didn’t say that.”

“You’re making this into a big deal.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Sex doesn’t have to be a big deal.” Really? Did she have to explain that to a hottie in his twenties?

“Is that what we’re talking about here? Just sex?”

“What else would we be talking about?” She shrugged. “We’re not talking life-changing here, Nicolas. Just a little fun we’ll probably forget by next year.” A lie, but a necessary one, if only to save a shred of her own pride. As if she could forget him so easily.

A flash of hurt crossed his expression. Before she could say anything, determination replaced it. “I definitely want to have sex with you.”

The man was nothing if not direct. Some of the tension left her, and she relaxed back on his lap, trying not to be totally distracted by the fact that he was still rock hard under her aching sex. “Then shut up about your secrets and fuck me.”

The last word was barely out of her mouth and he was on top of her. The speed at which he picked her up, carried her across the room, and planted her on his bed would have made her head spin if she’d had the time to process it. Or the brainpower. But her mind was fully focused on his lips against hers, his tongue forcefully taking her mouth. The long, hard cock he rubbed just where she needed him most.

“Nicolas!” she gasped when he finally broke the kiss.

But he wasn’t listening. His face set in a look so intense it made her want to look away, he stepped back and pulled off his shirt and pants.


Before she could fully consider what kind of man would brave the cold weather surrounding them without a stitch of cloth beneath his pants, he was undressing her. He didn’t take his time—he pulled, tugged, and grabbed at her clothes until she was free of all but her panties and bra. Her tiny panties, and very thin bra.

Okay, maybe he wasn’t the only crazy one.

Finally, he paused, her shirt still hanging from his hand. “You’re beautiful, city girl,” he murmured, eyes raking over her body like she was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

She blushed and waved away the compliment. “Not looking too bad yourself, country boy.”

A sexy grin, then he was positioning his body over hers. Slowly, he undid the front clasp of her bra and slid it open. He took her breasts in his hands and massaged them gently.

“So fucking beautiful,” he said, never looking away from her breasts. Then he bent to take one of her nipples in his mouth. He rolled her tender flesh with his tongue and lips, making the hard tips even harder, and sending a shock of need straight between her legs.

“Nicolas,” she said, his name escaping her lips in a whimper.

Ignoring her plea, he moved to her other nipple, pinching the first between his rough thumb and index finger as he gently worked the second with his mouth. The contrast made unbearable pressure build in her sex. She squirmed.

“Please!” She arched her back, trying to alleviate some of the pressure herself, but he easily moved out of the way and continued to torture her breasts.

The ache in her sex was almost painful. How could he bring her this close to orgasm without touching her clit?

Finally, he pulled back, but massaged and softly pinched her breasts and nipples, watching her face while he tortured her. “Your breasts are so sensitive. I wonder if I could make you come just by sucking on your nipples.”

The thought made her moan, long and low, and just the idea of it, the idea of this man being able to play her body so easily, almost pushed her over the edge.

“I think I could,” he mused, as if unaffected by what he was doing to her. But his voice caught, betraying him. And the hunger in his gaze was unmistakable. “I wonder if you’d forget this so easily, then? By next year, you said?”

So her words had hurt him—she hadn’t imagined the flash of emotion in his eyes. Right now she couldn’t find words to explain. To apologize. To try to make it right.

And he didn’t seem to expect her to. Instead, he leaned down again and worked her breasts, even more roughly than before, pulling his mouth away only long enough to whisper dirty things that made her whimper with need.

“Such nice little nipples. So hard and sensitive. Going to be swollen for days after I get done with them.”

The slight edge of malice to his voice pushed her over the edge, and with his teeth closing gently over one of her peaks, she came hard. He held her down, never stopping his assault on her breasts, but never touching her pussy, either, until the aftershocks faded. Then he pulled back from her chest and cradled her with his large body, most of his weight supported by his arms. He kissed her face and neck, soft little butterfly kisses, as she came back down to earth.

“That was amazing,” she managed, not opening her eyes—she was suddenly more than a little embarrassed.

Had he really just made her come without getting anywhere near her sex? Impossible. But she definitely hadn’t imagined that body-shaking orgasm.

He kissed her eyelids, a soft press to each one, then pulled away—not far, because she could still feel him. “Look at me, city girl.”

“I’m too embarrassed,” she said, stubbornly keeping her eyes closed.

His soft chuckle didn’t help, but there was no cruelty in his tone. “Embarrassed? That was wonderful.”

Carefully, she opened one eye to peer suspiciously at him. “It was weird.”

A smirk. “Ah, honey, if you think that was weird, I’ve got some really fun stuff to show you.”

She batted at his chest and he laughed.

“That wasn’t weird. That was one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen. And I sure as hell wouldn’t mind seeing it again.” He pushed back to tower over her on his knees, then he took his cock in his hand and began to stroke himself. “But not right now. Right now, I want that fuck you promised.”

Words escaped her, replaced by need. Watching him stare at her while he worked his cock made her even wetter than before, and she couldn’t do anything but gape at him. He couldn’t be that much older than her, and something in his demeanor, in his words, had made her think he might be a little inexperienced. But the man filling her vision—fisting his cock confidently, a slight smirk on his lips—was anything but inexperienced. She’d bet her scholarship on the fact that if anyone was green here, it was her. College hook-ups hadn’t prepared her for this man.

He reached for her.

“Condom!” she said, brain finally kicking in.

A slight frown. “Do you have one?”

Holy crap. What kind of guy looked like him and didn’t carry around condoms? The thought gave her pause. “You don’t?”

He grimaced. “This cabin isn’t the lady magnet you seem to think it is.”

“In my jacket pocket.” He arched a brow at her and she shrugged. “A girl has to keep hope alive.”

A soft chuckle, then he was gone. Before she could blink, he was back, standing at the end of the bed, her emergency condom in one hand, and his hard dick in the other. “Only one?”

She licked her lips and crawled toward him. “What kind of girl do you take me for?”

Before he could reply, she was licking the tip of his cock, tasting his salty, clean flavor. Then she took him in her hand and stroked him.

“Ah, Evie.” His voice was strained.

She liked that. Shooting him a small grin, she gave him her best sexy look, then took him into her mouth. As much of him as she could fit, anyway.

The man was huge, bigger than any she’d even been with. Thick and long and perfectly formed. She struggled to take more of him into her mouth as she pleasured him. Working him with her tongue, she moved up and down on his shaft until he bumped the back of her throat.

“Ah, hell,” he breathed. He rested his hand on her head, not guiding her, just holding her, running his fingers over her hair.

She moved faster, feeling the tension in his body.

“Stop, Evie.” His voice was guttural, he was close.

Tasting his pre-ejaculate, she moved faster, stroking him with her tongue every time she pulled away. His grip tightened in her hair, and he tugged her back. Pain stung her from her scalp as he yanked her off his cock.

She glared up at him, feeling like he’d denied her something.

His expression was feral, different. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was, exactly, but something was off. “I said stop,” he said, voice so low and strained she could barely make out the words.

A shiver of need rolled through her at the command in his tone. Her sex pulsed, as if she hadn’t just come.

A small smirk touched his lips. “I think you like being ordered around in bed.”

“Keep ordering me around and you’ll find out.” It was supposed to be a threat, but for some reason, it sounded like a promise. Shit.

“I plan to.” Then he was kissing her, pushing her back on the bed. His hand slipped between them to rub her clit through her panties, and in moments, she was panting for breath between kisses.

“You’re so wet, city girl. Can’t wait to fuck your tight little pussy.” He slid his finger beneath her panties and straight into her aching sex.

She moaned at his words, at the way his thick finger penetrated her without the slightest hesitation. He was a man who knew what he wanted, and took it. And damn it all if she didn’t like being taken.

A rip of the condom wrapper. She moved in to kiss him again, but he pulled back, taking her soaking panties with him. Then he picked her up and flipped her onto her stomach.

She cried out, frustrated at her lack of control, yet so turned on by him taking the lead—and his show of strength—that she was ready to crawl out of her skin. Hands holding her hips firmly, he pulled her ass up into the air. Gently, he smoothed his hand over the small of her back until she arched for him.

Sliding his smooth tip around her slick entrance, he made sure she was ready for him, then with one swift motion, he sunk his full length into her heat.

“Nicolas!” His name was wrenched from her lips in a mix of pleasure and pain, of sudden fullness and intense desire. A growl behind her, then he started moving, fucking her hard.

“So wet and tight. Fuck, Evie.”

God, he was right. She was so wet, so ready for him, that it took only a few strokes before the small bit of discomfort from his rough taking faded away, and intense pleasure overwhelmed her senses.

Harder and faster with every stroke, he fucked her with abandon. She gripped the flannel sheets, trying to hold onto something, anything, to keep some semblance of control. He denied her even that, setting the pace and holding her in place with his iron grip on her hips. The man who’d been patient enough to bring her to orgasm by playing with her breasts alone was gone; it was like an animal had replaced him.

Female satisfaction rolled through her as she moaned at each thrust. She’d done this to him. Brought him to this fervor.

With each stroke, he hit something deep inside of her, something sensitive that made her gasp and moan and try to squirm—away or closer, she wasn’t sure. The orgasm hit her suddenly, and she cried out from the force of it. Her whole body shuddered, her sex clenching around him as he continued to fuck her.

A shout of triumph behind her, and then she felt his cock jerking inside of her heat as he found his own release.

Sudden pain arched from the muscle between her neck and shoulders, and she yelled, trying to pull away. But her muscles didn’t work, and she couldn’t seem to move. The orgasm didn’t stop. It kept rolling over her, even more intensely than before, and Nicolas, holding her in place, continued to thrust into her, even as she felt him against her neck. Stars flashed across her vision.

For a moment, the world disappeared. There was only him, behind her, inside her, holding her close. Keeping her safe. Making her complete in way she’d never known existed. A moment of total bliss.

Reality hit. Something was wrong. Her neck was on fire. She struggled in his arms, finally able to move, to turn.

The pressure against her neck disappeared, but what she saw pushed her from strange, surreal pleasure, to panic.


Wet and dark, it stained the sheets by her shoulder. Not much—not that she could see in the low lighting, but even the small mark sent her into a panic.

“What—” She jerked against the weight on her back, and Nicolas pushed off of her. She spun to face him, gripping the now aching spot between her neck and her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he said, gruffly, pulling on his jeans.

“You bit me!”

“I didn’t mean to—I don’t know why—”

“You don’t know why you bit me?” Holy crap. He’d bitten her, hard enough to draw blood. There was a surprisingly small amount of pain, considering how hard a man probably had to bite to draw blood, but still. The lack of pain was probably just a benefit of the adrenaline pumping into her system.

Fear mixed with anger in her stomach, and she clung to the anger. Fear wasn’t an option right now. She couldn’t exactly go running into the snowstorm, screaming about the man who’d saved her life, given her amazing orgasms, then bit her like some kind of cannibal.

“It was instinct. I’m sorry. If I’d known the connection would be that strong, I never would have—but I can’t take it back.” His voice was thick, garbled, and she looked at him. If he had a chunk of her shoulder in his mouth or something she was going to go apeshit.

But it wasn’t her flesh in his teeth that made him sound so odd—his teeth were wrong. Big and long and holy shit.

Her chest constricted and her blood pumped so loudly in her ears she could barely hear her panicked breaths over the sound. She scrambled up from the bed. “What the fuck?”

His hand rose to his face, covering his mouth. “I’m so sorry,” he said, blocking her view of his fangs.

His fangs.

Sorry? He was sorry?

Realization hit, and black spots crossed her vision. Dread curled in her stomach, and a deep sadness made her swallow down a sob before she could speak.

“I’m still out there, in the snow,” she said, voice barely audible, even to her own ears.

“What?” He’d moved his hand away from his mouth—his teeth were normal again.

Still leaning against that tree, she was dying. This was one of those feverish dreams that struck when a person was beyond shock. That was the only explanation that made any sense.

She choked on the lump in her throat, and tears pricked her eyelids. “I’m going to die.”

Nicolas closed the gap between them and pulled her into his warm embrace. She didn’t fight him—what did it matter if this was a dream?

“You’re not going to die. You’re fine, city girl, I’ve got you.”

“This has to be a dream. Your mouth—”

“Shh…” He held her, rubbing small, calming circles on her back.

She inhaled deeply. His scent, so earthy and clean, calmed her, even though it was just an illusion. If she was going to die, there were worse ways than in this imaginary man’s arms.

“It’s not a dream, I promise you. I can pinch you, if you want.”

Unconvinced, and not placated by his teasing, she pushed away from his chest and looked up at him. “If it’s not a dream, then what the fuck is going on with your teeth?”

His brows furrowed. “I’m not supposed to tell you. You’re human.”

“And you’re not?” The whole conversation was so surreal. The knowledge that it was all probably in her head made it easier for some reason.


“Then what are you?”

He sighed and ran a hand over his hair. “I’m a weretiger.”

The laugh bubbled out of her before she could stop it, and the sound was only half hysterical.

A frown creased his mouth and he stepped back. “You find that amusing.”

“I’m just impressed with my dying brain’s imagination.”

“You’re not dying.” Anger coated his tone. Imagine that; she’d touched a nerve in her imaginary man.

“Then why am I having crazy weretiger sex dreams?”

“You don’t believe me?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I totally believe you. I believe in vampires and magic and little green men, too.”

“I’ll show you, but you have to promise not to run. My control isn’t great.” His gaze moved to her neck and her hand followed to touch the tender bite mark. Sure felt real. “As you know.”

“Fine, whatever. I promise.” What would her brain come up with next?

“Watch me.”

She kept her eyes locked on him, trying to keep her mind focused on anything but the fact that she was probably unconscious, dying—her brain playing stupid games while she couldn’t do a thing about it.

The smallest detail caught her attention. Nicolas’s nose looked a little wider all of a sudden, and his mouth suddenly appeared too small to hold all of his teeth. Then, as she watched, his bones seemed to move beneath his skin. Horrible cracking noises filled the air, hair sprouted on his formerly smooth skin. His jeans ripped and fell into a pile at his feet. His now furry feet. All four of them.

She gaped at the man in front of her, bile rising to the back of her throat.

As quickly as it began, it was over.

Seconds. Only seconds had passed. But Nicolas no longer stood in front of her. Instead, a full-grown tiger waited.

A huge tiger.

The scream caught in her throat, and the world shifted. She struggled to breathe, to stay on her feet. Suddenly, all of this seemed real—too real.

The tiger didn’t move, but it followed her with its dark eyes. Its mouth opened, and a small sound emerged—a weird, low-pitched whine. Not threatening, yet all too real.

She ran.

Her feet pedaled through knee-deep snow before she realized she’d started moving. With only a sheet clutched around her, the ice and snow penetrated her haze quickly, but she couldn’t seem to stop running. Someone called out her name. She ran faster, picking herself up every time she tripped on the heavy snow.

Less than fifty feet from the cabin, he caught up to her. Nicolas grabbed her around her middle, pulling her off her feet and out of the snow even as she kicked at him.

“Let me go!”

“You’ll get yourself killed for real out here.”

Logic wasn’t something she was interested in. She kicked and scratched at him, but his strength was insurmountable, and he merely grunted in response when she got a good shot in. And as if she weighted nothing and wasn’t squirming to get away, he carried her back to the cabin.

“Put me down,” she growled against his chest when he didn’t immediately release her.

“Promise me you won’t run.”

“Promise me this whole thing is some weird dream.”

A soft chuckle. “Can’t do that, sweetheart.”

Holy crap. The man had turned into a tiger. She wasn’t totally convinced this whole thing wasn’t just a weird dream, but it was feeling less and less like one. Nicolas felt very real, holding her in his arms. His calming scent filled her lungs when she heaved a sigh.

“This isn’t a dream.” She rested her face against his chest.

He held her tighter and took a deep breath, his face buried in her hair. Maybe he liked how she smelled, too.

“Let me go. I won’t run.”

With care, he set her down on her feet in front of the fire. Somewhere along the way, she’d lost his sheet. She wasn’t sure which was crazier—standing in a cabin, talking to a tiger, or running in the snowstorm in a bed sheet.

Both were pretty dumb, but she only had so many options.

Silence stretched beyond awkward. She couldn’t seem to find any words, couldn’t even manage a thank you when Nicolas brought her a blanket and wrapped it around her shivering body.

Her brain ran through all the logical explanations she could come up with, but none explained any of what had happened, save a feverish dream or the impossible alternative that what she’d seen was real. That Nicolas wasn’t a human hermit—he was a weretiger living in the woods.

“Can I check your shoulder? You might need bandage. Humans aren’t—I don’t want to see you hurt,” Nicolas said, finally breaking the silent stalemate.

She shot him a level glare. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have bitten me.” Or turned into a tiger. No. She had to shut down that thought for now. Freaking out wasn’t going to do anything but get her frozen or chased.

Eyes full of regret, he didn’t look away. “My instincts can be difficult to control sometimes. It’s…it’s why I’m out here. Alone.”

Pain squeezed her chest. Feeling sorry for the man who’d just turned into a tiger in front of her probably made her an idiot, but she suddenly wanted to comfort him. Hold him. Tell him that he wasn’t alone.

Not an option, no matter how much he pulled at her heart.

“Is that why you’re on this mountain?”

A short nod. “I have…problems. Not ones I should have. My bloodlines are pure—I shouldn’t—” He shook his head. “I’m the problem. My brother turned out the perfect prime—the perfect royal tiger. There’s something wrong with me.”

His bloodlines? What the heck did that mean? And what was a prime?

He stepped closer and her foot slid back, but she stopped when she saw him flinch.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said, voice low. But he didn’t take another step. God, she’d made the big tiger sad. Why did she feel so guilty about it? He’d bitten her, after all. She’d just wanted a little fun, not a change in her whole understanding of the world. Not a man who seemed to have gotten under her skin in a single night.



The small bit of hope in his eyes made her want to hug him even more. She closed the gap between them, but didn’t touch him. “Fine, then. You can look at my stupid shoulder.”

They both dressed, though she left off her shirt, putting on her bra alone, so Nicolas could check her shoulder. He didn’t have bandages, but the wound wasn’t as bad as she’d feared. At least, from what she could see from her awkward angle. He cleaned it out with some water and soap, and applied a small bandage that she suspected was made on the fly from a chunk of one of his T-shirts.

“That biting thing. I’m not going—” She couldn’t finish that sentence; her brain just shut down at the thought. He looked at her quizzically, not understanding her unspoken worry. “I’m not going to turn furry at the full moon or something?” she finished in a rush of words.

“No, of course not.” He grinned. “It’s not transferrable, if that’s what you mean.”

God, he was adorable, even when acting as though shit like that should be common sense. She shrugged, and a small twinge in her shoulder reminded her to keep her distance. “That’s what happens in the movies, but mostly werewolves.”

“You’ll be fine.” He hesitated. “No turning.”

There was something else, something he wasn’t telling her. She opened her mouth to demand to know what, then snapped it shut. Exhaustion weighed on her, like a physical force pushing her shoulder, her legs. Sleep. She needed sleep. Her limit had officially been hit for the amount of strangeness and fear she could handle in one day.

“You should rest,” he said.

“That obvious, huh?” She smiled at him—she couldn’t help it. He was so adorable, floppy hair in his eyes, concern for her etched on his face.

“You look like you may fall over any second.”

“Would you catch me?” Oh, yeah, she was definitely exhausted. Sleep drunk, even.

Finally, he smiled. “I’d never let you fall.”

He followed her to the bed and tucked her under the comforter. But when he started to move away, she grabbed his hand. He paused, looking down at her with a question in his eyes.

“Stay with me?”

A short nod, as if he feared speaking would shatter the small bit of trust she’d managed. She released his hand and he crawled under the covers behind her, then pulled her into his arms. Her eyes closed, and she wiggled just a little closer. Tightening his arms around her, he kissed her hair.

Warm and safe.

She might be going home tomorrow. Back to her ordinary life. But she had no doubt that this wasn’t the last time she’d see Nicolas. He was inside of her now, in her blood. And somehow, she knew that she was in his blood, too.

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Check out Prime Desire….

Evie hasn’t been back to the Colorado Rockies in years. Not since she almost lost her life in a terrible snowstorm, only to be saved by a sexy, mysterious stranger. A man who not only saved her life, but who also gave her a night of pleasure she’s never been able to forget.

But in the midst of passion, Nicolas revealed a frightening new world.

Fearing her rescuer’s lack of control over his weretiger nature, Evie ran. But when her dream of becoming a wildlife photographer brings her back into Nicolas’s territory, she finds the man almost impossible to resist.

Nicolas screwed up the night he met Evie. And ever since the plucky human slipped out of his bed without a word, he has been unable to forget her. But he wasn’t ready to follow her then—he was still gaining control of his tiger. Serendipity might have brought them together once, but Nicolas refuses to leave their future to chance.

He will claim Evie as his mate, or lose her forever.

Available now, or get all of Evie and Nicolas’s adventures in one collection.

Chapter One

Three years later…

“Stupid, freaking thing. Just. Open!” Evie jiggled her key in the equipment cabinet, muttering a curse under her breath. The damn thing never failed to stick, and sometimes it felt like she spent half of her day either trying to get it open or trying to get it locked. Finally, the lock gave, and she wrenched the door open. A tripod flew at her, massive metal sticks going in all directions.

She yelped and hopped back, narrowly escaping a shot to the eye. Of course, the tripod was trying to kill her. It was just that kind of a Monday. Besides, Doug worked the weekend, and the kid couldn’t be bothered to load the closet properly.

After she tugged the camera, tripod, and miscellaneous props out of the cabinet, Evie hit the power button on the computer and ran to start the coffee pot. A good half-hour before her first appointment, she was determined to be fully caffeinated before attempting to pry smiles out of sullen teenagers.

Cup in hand, she settled in at the computer and clicked through the news while nursing her coffee. Not much happened in the sleepy California town she’d lived in since graduating college, but the local newspaper’s website did feature an article about a church potluck that went into excruciating detail, as well as the winners of a 4-H competition.

Sleepiness threatening, she checked the studio’s email, but no inquiries had come in since the day before. After one last scan of the local paper, she’d summoned enough courage to check her own account.

A bolded, unread message—complete with an urgent exclamation point flag—waited in her inbox. She flinched. Sure, she’d half expected it, but she’d hoped after her latest long reprieve that her parents had given up.

Fat chance.

Sure enough, there was a job posting attached to the message, which she clicked before even scanning the text. A respectable office position that required a bachelor’s degree but didn’t specify the major. A job that would eliminate the fifty-mile gap she’d managed to get between herself and her parents. A gap she wouldn’t even care about if their disapproval of all her life choices didn’t radiate so obviously with every glance.

She didn’t need their approval. And if she continued to tell herself that, eventually, she might even believe it.

A year had passed since she’d graduated college. A year since she’d refused to go on to graduate school to become something respectable like a businesswoman or lawyer. Even though Evie had taken most of the money she’d saved for grad school and spent it on expensive camera equipment to develop her wildlife photography portfolio, her mother continued to hope.

Grimacing, she clicked back to her mother’s email.

Sure enough, her mother started with civilities. Asked how her month was going so far. Checked to make sure she got her flu shot. But after two paragraphs, she got down to business. A quick, innocuous line asking her how work was going. Followed by a not so subtle reminder that she was still young and she could still go back to school. That her parents were more than happy to do everything they could to help her pay for it. Since—the email insinuated but didn’t say directly—Evie had gone and wasted all of her own savings on a silly dream.

A dream that wasn’t working out.

Her stomach dropped at the thought. Sure, working at a portrait studio—mostly taking senior photos for high school yearbooks, family photos, and even helping her boss, Dana, shoot the occasional wedding—wasn’t exactly her lifelong goal. But she got to take pictures—for an admittedly modest income.

Not exactly the same as seeing her photo featured on the cover of National Geographic, but she wasn’t ready to give up on that dream just yet.

To reply or not to reply? She bit her lip, feeling a headache starting between her temples. She clicked back to her inbox. Her mom wouldn’t panic about her non-reply for a few hours yet, so she’d wait. She just couldn’t summon the false cheerfulness—not before finishing her first cup of coffee.

But before she could close out of her email altogether, a new message popped up, catching her attention.

She frowned, then her mouth dropped open. The company name wasn’t familiar. But she didn’t care.

The subject read: Wildlife Photographer Needed.

Her heart jumped into her throat. Not once, in all the times she’d sent inquiries and copies of her portfolio, had she gotten a reply back—other than the standard “If we need somebody, we’ll let you know. Thanks so much for your interest.”

Holding her breath, she opened the email.

The message didn’t open with common pleasantries. Instead, it was terse and to the point.

Ms. Lane, Upon considering your portfolio, we believe you would be the right candidate for a series of photos we wish to be taken of a family of Rocky Mountain White Foxes that have been spotted in Northern Colorado. Please reply within forty-eight hours to the phone number below if you are interested. Regards, Ms. Clark.

She hopped up and down in her seat, unable to contain her excitement. This was the chance she’d been hoping for. Her shot. She could hardly believe her eyes, could hardly believe the email had her name on it. On a crazy whim, she hit &print screen& on the keyboard. The unlikely event that the email would suddenly disappear suddenly weighed on her mind.

The paper was still hot from the printer when she snatched it up to read it again. This much excitement had to be shared.

Lauren answered on the second ring.

“Guess what! Guess what!” She said, bouncing on her seat. Beneath her, the office chair squeaked.

“What? What?” her best friend Lauren asked, echoing her excitement.

“I got a job offer.”

“Really? Is it…” Lauren hesitated, obviously trying to find a nice way to ask what kind of job. She knew how disappointed Evie had been in the past, how rare the type of work she wanted to do really was.

“It’s photographing foxes.” When Lauren didn’t say anything, she added, “Rare foxes. For a nature magazine.” The name of the magazine wasn’t specified in the email. Odd, but not a deal breaker. Surely they would divulge that when she called them.

“Oh my God!” Lauren said. “That’s wonderful. Exactly what you’ve been wanting. How did this happen? I need all the deets.”

“It…” Lauren brought up a good question. How had it happened? She certainly hadn’t applied for any specific job like this. Rocky Mountain Snow Foxes? That, she would’ve remembered. They were rare, beautiful creatures. So rare they’d been thought extinct for ten years and had only been spotted half a dozen times in the last five. “I guess an editor came across my portfolio.”

It had been nearly six months since she’d last sent one to a major magazine, but who knew how long they kept portfolios on file? Heck, maybe she’d caught someone’s attention back then. Maybe they put her on the short list for when something appropriate came up. The thought added to the rush of adrenaline pumping through her system. She very nearly preened.

“Where is it at? When do you leave?”

Of course Lauren wanted all the details. The accountant was obsessed with details. “I don’t have all the info yet,” she confessed. “All I know is that it’s in northern Colorado. I’ve got to call them and confirm that I’m interested.”

On the other side of the line, Lauren paused. “Northern Colorado?”

Evie knew exactly where Lauren’s mind was going. “It’s fine. Colorado isn’t exactly a small state—I probably won’t be in the same area. And even if I am, it will be fine.” How many times had she said fine? Probably enough to show she wasn’t totally there yet. But she would be. This was her dream, and she wasn’t letting a little thing like a near death experience and a Twilight Zone-esque incident keep her from taking her shot.

“Well, you’re obviously fine,” Lauren said dryly. “Just be careful out there. The last time—crap, Evie, we almost lost you.”

She swallowed hard, some of her exuberance tempered. Lauren spoke the truth. The last time she was in those cold, snowy mountains, she’d almost died. But she’d made it back to civilization in one piece. Because the sexiest man she’d ever met—before or since—had saved her life. Plucked her out of the snow, taken her to his rustic cabin in the woods, and fucked her so good she compared every man she’d met since against him.

And they’d all come up wanting.

But then he’d turned into a monster—or she had a mental breakdown. That part, she’d never confided in Lauren, or anyone else, for that matter. In fact, most of the time, she pretended that bit never happened.

That trip to Colorado had wreaked havoc on her love life. Had, in fact, pretty much brought it to a halt other than a few lackluster dates she’d had since then. But she’d get over it—she’d get over him. Hell, maybe a trip back to the area would help her finally let go of the man she’d met there.

“Promise. I’ll be fine. I’ve built up my survival skills since then. Besides, it’s spring.”

“Yeah,” Lauren deadpanned. “And freak snowstorms never occurred in Colorado in the spring. Especially not at whatever elevation I’m sure these whatever mountain foxes live at.”

“Rocky Mountain Snow Foxes,” she muttered. “Honest, I’ll be fine. This is happy for me time.”

Lauren took the hint. “Of course, I’m happy for you—this is the start of your dreams really coming true. I feel it. I just want you to be careful.”

“Don’t worry, being careful is on my to-do list.”

Lauren laughed and shifted the conversation to the details of what Evie needed to pack.

Her mind wandered, settling on a single night three years gone. A night that had changed her life forever.

A night she’d never been able forget.

Available now, or get all of Evie and Nicolas’s adventures in one collection.

Claiming Their Royal Mate – Sneak Peek

Daniella Clark has never fit in—a fact she’s always blamed on being adopted. But when her body is overtaken by a need so fierce it defies human explanation, she turns to the one man she instinctively knows must have the answers she seeks—her sexy-as-sin neighbor. But his explanation isn’t one she can easily accept, and it means her sexual heat won’t go away without his help.


But it turns out her neighbor isn’t the only male she has to worry about. The prime of his people has laid claim to her. And though he radiates sexuality in a way that makes her mouth water, he’s more beast than man. With one weretiger charged to protect her, and the prime’s plan to claim her for his own, Daniella must fight to maintain her sense of self, even while they fight for her.

Claiming Their Royal Mate: Part One is currently available FREE through most retailers.


Holy crap. How had she accumulated so many clothes that no longer fit?

Barely keeping hold of the bags full of old clothes, Daniella Clark bumped her butt into the door to push it open. Stepping into the hallway, she hit something nearly as hard as the door—something that grunted at the contact. The bags slipped from her fingers to land on the threshold. The hard body she’d run into was attached to a large man blocking her doorway, and her glare didn’t seem to ruffle him at all.

The jerk was always in her way lately.

“Jeez. Way to skulk around my door. What do you want, Owen?” Daniella asked, hating the breathiness in her voice.

Her neighbor stared at her for a moment, and his nostrils flared. Something passed behind his gaze. Something that made her breath catch and tension build between her legs. But just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. And he shrugged, arrogant mask engaged.

“I was just passing by. Not my fault you didn’t look where you were going.”

The man was seriously aggravating. She could hardly believe they’d been good friends the last year, ever since she’d accidentally locked herself out of her apartment. He’d been kind enough to give her a place to hang out while she’d waited for the building’s superintendent to show up with the key. From then on, they’d hung out at least once a week, sometimes more, depending on her schedule. That is, up until a month ago.

“I’m getting sick of you always being in my way, Owen.” She picked up the bags, needing something to look at that wasn’t her ridiculously hot neighbor. Her attraction to him itself was irritating because he wasn’t her type, even if he did make her weak in the knees. His face was hard, chiseled and memorable, but his features were too strong to be considered traditionally handsome—his nose too Roman and his jaw a little too wide. Not to mention he rarely smiled at her anymore, and she liked men who weren’t afraid to enjoy life.

Heck, that was why she’d liked his company for so long—his easy laughter and quick wit. Over the last month, it was as if he’d turned into a different man. One who didn’t smile much and who was quick to anger.

She tried not to take it personally, but the fact he’d just cut off their friendship, cold as ice, made being the bigger person difficult.

His full head of light brown hair was nice, if always a little too long—as if he were constantly two weeks late to the barber. But he was far bigger than guys she liked to date. Broad and muscled like a man who never left the gym. Although she’d never actually seen him at the gym near their Denver apartment complex, he had to work out somewhere. Men just didn’t achieve that level of muscle naturally.

But despite the fact he didn’t fit her usual mold, she found herself more than just a little attracted to him.

Of course, that was a hopeless cause if ever there was one. She’d seen his dates—all two of them—since he’d moved into the building. They were both model thin, and while she was usually pretty proud of her voluptuous form, no one would ever accuse her of being waif-like.

Her attraction had started with a tremor. Just the slightest quavering of her voice when she spoke to him. Then, just when she’d started looking at him differently, he’d shut down. Stopped talking to her, started making excuses for why he couldn’t hang out with her anymore. But he always seemed to be around. At her door when she walked out. Looking irritated to run into her in the parking lot.

“I was walking through a shared hallway. Would you prefer I jump out the window to get to my truck?” A hint of a smile touched his lips, and her breath caught.

Freaking-A. No way was a simple smile turning her on. She was really starting to dislike her neighbor. “I’d love for you to jump out a window or two. Heck, I’ll even help with a little push.”

And she wasn’t lying. Sure, she wouldn’t really push a man out a window, but something inside of her—the part that was continuously horny, lately—was also feeling pretty violent. It came out at the weirdest times, and it took every ounce of her self-control not to lash out. Probably she needed to go see her doctor about a new birth control or something. Out of whack hormones were likely the cause of her wild emotions.

Not that Owen was helping. He’d chased off two of her dates in the last month. Not by doing anything she could call him out for. No, he was too subtle for that. He’d just drop in to borrow sugar—when she’d never once seen the man bake. Or he’d say he thought he’d smelled gas coming from her apartment, and wanted to check. Then he’d glower in a way that made her dates run for the hills.

And then he started showing up at her apartment when she was feeling particularly…needy.

“Surely you wouldn’t want to see me injured.” His nose flared again, as if he couldn’t get enough of her smell. It was seriously disturbing.

Even more disturbing was the sudden wetness between her legs and the tension coiling in her belly. She really needed to get some if a man she didn’t even like could get her engine revving by smelling her. “I wouldn’t bet on that.”

“You’ll be happy I’m around, Daniella. Very soon.”

She tried to shove past him, but he moved out of her way before they touched, quick for such a large man. Part of her regretted the lack of contact, but the rest of her thought that part was batshit crazy.

Check out Claiming Their Royal Mate: Part One.

Also by Tiffany Allee

Alaskan Bears

The Bear’s Accidental Mate

The Bear’s Wedding Date

The Bear’s Unexpected Fate

Royals World

Claiming Their Royal Mate: The Collection

Prime Series: The Collection

Sons of Kane

Don’t Bite the Bridesmaid

Don’t Blackmail the Vampire

From the Files of the Otherworlder Enforcement Agency

Banshee Charmer

Succubus Lost

Lycan Unleashed

Vampire Games

Other Titles

Temptation by Fire

Heels and Heroes

Billionaire Boss

About the Author

Tiffany Allee (aka Andie Devaux) writes sensual romance stories. When she’s not writing (or reading!), she can usually be found daydreaming, hiking, or attempting a new recipe. She thinks that life should require happily ever afters. And since she doesn’t make the rules of life, she instead applies this philosophy to the worlds she can control – the ones in her books.




[email protected]

Broken Prime

When Evie loses her way in the woods during a terrible storm, she is determined not to die. But snow and darkness close in and all seems lost—until a stranger finds her. Warm and safe at his cabin, she can’t help notice how sexy her rescuer is, and things go from warm to scorching hot. But Nicolas lives alone on the mountain for a reason. And his secrets may be more dangerous to Evie than the cold.

  • Author: Tiffany Allee
  • Published: 2017-02-20 18:35:12
  • Words: 10884
Broken Prime Broken Prime