About Here, Kitty Kitty

by Sara Bell, Jamie Booth & Kit Zheng, and Jourdan Lane
187 pages / 74500 words
ISBN: 978-1-60370-830-2, 1-60370-830-8
Available file types - html, lit, pdf, prc, epub, Sony-optimized pdf, paperback

The strength of the big cat is undeniable. Add in the cunning and intelligence of a man, and you have a powerful combination. That's the idea behind Here, Kitty Kitty. Featuring three new shapeshifting cat tales from Jourdan Lane, Jamie Booth and Kit Zheng, and Sara Bell, this collection has all the feral heat, struggle for upper hand, and fight for survival that makes the big cat so intriguing.

From exiled lovers who show up just in time to complicate already complicated lives, to modern fairytales about cats and curses, Here, Kitty Kitty is like a catnip-fueled romp through urban jungles and magical realities. With mind-reading alphas, testosterone-laden rivalries and shapeshifter romance, the stories in Here, Kitty Kitty are a feast for even the sharpest senses. Who doesn't love the most primal of all shapeshifters? Get your paws on Here, Kitty Kitty today.

Review

Kiernan Kelly, author of In Their Own Skins: Shifting Sands, writes:

Saving Pride by Jourdan Lane

In the cat-eat-cat world of the Pride, lion shapeshifter Nathan has lost everything – more than once. When his lover, Kane, returns from exile, his life is again thrown into jeopardy, but his heart remembers a love that can’t be denied. With a Pride of hunters out for their blood, Nathan and Kane must decide whether to risk it all, or live their lives forever on the run.

Jourdan Lane pens a riveting tale of a unique set of shifters that’s as steamy as it is fascinating. Every nuance of Pride behavior is evident in these strong, feline characters, some of whom suffer from the all-too-human failings of greed, jealousy, and betrayal, while others exhibit the sweeter side of human existence with love, respect, and faithfulness .

The Tale of Tom Katt and Martin Rue by Jamie Booth & Kit Zheng

Martin Rue is as sly as a cat, and with good reason: he is one. Technically, that is. He prowls bars and seduces men into his bed, exchanging amazing sex for a sip of their souls.

Tom Katt is a taxi driver who recognizes something incredibly familiar in Martin, something they both have in common...and an answer to a dilemma that has plagued Tom for years.

In “The Tale of Tom Katt and Martin Rue,” Jamie Booth and Kit Zheng bring us a charming story that blends faery magic, cat myths, and a heartwarming love. Like an intricate ball of yarn, the story teases the reader in, exposing its truths one strand at a time and, like a cat, the reader will have a delightful time unraveling it.

Beckett’s Pride By Sara Bell

Cyrus has a secret he keeps close to the vest, but when he meets Gideon, a man with a few secrets of his own, it doesn’t take him long to come clean. Gideon understands Cyrus on a level few -- if any -- have before. The feeling is addictive, and the love that soon blooms between the two even more so. When Cyrus’ past catches up to him, Gideon provides the strength he needs to face it head on.

Sara Bell has created a captivating world of shifters, from wolves who own bars under the endless Montana skies, to lions who make their lair in Tennessee, and many breeds in between. Filled with witty dialogue, passionate sex, amazing characters, and a plot that will keep readers riveted, this shifter tale is one not to miss!

“Here Kitty, Kitty” is a entertaining, sexy read chock full of feline fun. Whether you’re a cat lover or just a hot, hunky man lover, you’re bound to adore this shifter anthology from these four talented writers! 

Sample

Saving Pride by Jourdan Lane

"You know why I had to leave, Nathan."

"Yeah, well knowing why didn't make it hurt any less." He flinched at my words and I pulled back to look at him again. The misery and pain I saw reflected back took away even more of the anger. I smoothed his hair back and out of his eyes, practically petting him. "Why did you come back?"

"Oh, you know…" his eyes closed and his body relaxed a little. "Thought I'd test the waters, see just how unwelcome I really was."

I gave his hair a yank and he grinned, but didn't open his eyes. "Figured that if I waited a month or so after Pop died, it'd be safe to come pay my respects. Killed me that I couldn't come to his funeral."

Pop.

His paternal grandfather and my adopted grandfather. A man we'd spent most of our childhood shadowing because we wanted to be just like him when we grew up. Most Pride Kings were all about power, but not Pop. He was all about family. Not being power-hungry had cost him his throne, but it hadn't seemed to hurt his feelings much at all. In fact, he'd seemed genuinely relieved to be free of it all.

I hadn't been allowed to go to Pop's funeral either, but at least I'd been able to go to his grave after the ceremony. But still. Kane showing up now would cause a shit storm, no matter the reasons for him being here.

There was no question about it: Kane had to get out of town -- and fast.

Kane was studying me, his expression weary. "Nate?"

I stepped out of his arms and turned my attention to the truck. "What is it, ninety-six? Ninety-seven?"

"Six."

"Probably won't have the part," I said with a shrug. "Amos won't keep them in stock because he thinks everyone drives a new fucking truck nowadays."

Kane chuckled. "Sounds like you need to hire someone else to handle your inventory."

"Not my shop anymore. All belongs to Amos now."

"What?" Kane stepped toward me, reaching out. "What happened?"

I stumbled backward -- knowing that if he touched me, nothing on this truck would get fixed -- and nearly fell over a floor jack. "You."

"Christ, I…" he hissed "I didn't know."

"Right." I turned and walked over to Kane's truck and popped the hood. "Didn't know that Helen would flip after you ran out on your own wedding day, leaving another Pride's daughter at the altar? That she wouldn't absolutely freak out when she found out we'd been fucking each other for years -- which was one of the reasons you balked on the whole arranged marriage thing?"

"I knew mother would be pissed, but never thought she'd take it out on you."

"Why not? I mean, it's obvious she has no real feelings of love toward her own children when she would exile one of them. Since I was the adopted one who corrupted her first-born? Yeah, I'm not exactly her favorite person." I looked at the truck's guts, shaking my head. "Jesus, Kane. Did I teach you nothing at all about basic vehicle maintenance?"

"I do believe it was I who corrupted you at the tender age of fourteen." Kane laughed, the sound low and deep, sending goosebumps over my entire body. "For the record, I haven't had this thing long enough to worry about maintenance. It was a seven hundred dollar truck that ran and was only meant to get me in and out of town."

"You should get your money back." I turned around and Kane was right there, inches away. My heart slammed in my chest and I suddenly flushed, though the eighty-degree heat outside had nothing to do with it. "It's uh… Probably not just the…"

Fuck.

The way Kane was looking at me all intense, like he wanted to strip me down and get really reacquainted made my brain shut down. My words were suddenly just not there.

"Not just what?" Kane leaned forward as if he was going to kiss me, but he didn't close that fraction of an inch between us to actually do it. "Think it's more than the water pump?"

The spicy scent of Kane's arousal hit me full force and I swayed a little. I had to lock my knees to keep from going down to the floor. Though, if I were on the floor… Thoughts of what I'd do -- what I'd be able to taste -- while on my knees before Kane assaulted me and I licked at my lips.

"Yes."

"Yes it's more than the pump?" Kane ran his tongue along my lower lip. "Or yes, you want to see if we still feel as good together as we used to?"

The Tale of Tom Katt and Martin Rue by Jamie Booth & Kit Zheng

The walk across the dance-floor seemed unfeasibly long, as Adie weaved between a kaleidoscope of people, dancing to the wobbling music beneath the spinning lights. Every time someone blocked his path and obscured the blond man from his view, Adie felt certain he wouldn't be there when the person moved away. Each time, there he still was, in increasing close-up.

It was with a smile of almost recognition that the man greeted him, Adie thought. Like in films: I've been waiting for you all night. I've been waiting for you all my life.

"Hi."

The guy didn't answer, just carried on smiling. Adie was struck by the irrational idea that he might be mute. He tried again,

"Would you like a drink?"

The music was loud. Adie mouthed the words more than shouted, relieved when the man's face displayed an expression of breaking comprehension and he nodded, making a vague, brief 'can't hear you' gesture with one hand cupped around an ear. He indicated in the direction of the bar and then, to Adie's delighted surprise, took him by the hand and led the way.

"What's your name?"

It was quieter by the bar, although not by much, and the stranger still had to lean in close to be heard. His voice was soft-edged with an unfamiliar lilt to it; Adie couldn't work out if it was an accent or a slight speech impediment. He leaned in to answer,

"Aiden, but my friends call me Adie. What about you?"

"I'll call you Adie, then."

The man grinned. Adie let out a laugh.

"I meant, what are you called?"

"Martin. Martin Rue."

"Well, Martin Rue, what's your poison?" Adie cocked his head toward the regiment of bottles on the mirrored shelves behind the bar, fishing his wallet from his back pocket. Martin shook his head.

"I don't want a drink."

"No?"

"No," his smile was playful, but his eyes were serious: a delicious dropping feeling triggered in the pit of Adie's gut, tumbling like dominoes. "It's too noisy to talk in here. I'd rather go for a walk."

"It's cold outside."

The man put his head on one side, gazing unflinchingly. He said,

"Then we could always go to your place." He licked his lips.

Adie's heart skipped a beat or two.

Beckett's Pride by Sara Bell

Cyrus wiped his hands on his jeans. The closer Mr. Hot Hunky Bartender Man got, the better looking he became. Not that Cyrus considered himself ugly, but it'd been a while since he'd dated, and he had no idea if the man coming toward him with the earth brown eyes and glossy black hair was even gay. He cursed his faulty gaydar and prayed he wasn't about to get his ass kicked.

The guy wasn't much taller than Cyrus's six-even. He was slender but well-defined, like he took care of himself but wasn't Lord of the Workout. He walked with careless, even strides: sex on two legs. Then he smiled, and that's when Cyrus knew.

This one could be trouble.

Just before the guy reached Cyrus, the club's double doors were flung wide and a noisy party straggled in, sounding like they'd already started their celebration somewhere else. The bartender darted a quick look around, hesitated like he was coming to some sort of decision, and motioned with his head for Cyrus to follow him.

Cyrus didn't even think about saying no.

They skirted the crowded dance floor and ducked into a darkened doorway marked "employees only." At first Cyrus thought the guy was taking him to the kitchen -- maybe even into the office -- but instead he slipped out a private exit, holding the door for Cyrus to follow.

The door led into a well-lit alley. Cyrus had the fleeting thought maybe he should be nervous out here alone with a strange shifter of God only knew what strength, but he hadn't met one yet who could best him hand to hand. Besides, violence wasn't the vibe he was picking up from Mr. Hot and Hunky.

The man in question let the door close. "I'm Gideon Sharp." Before Cyrus could say anything, Gideon put his right hand over his heart and his left hand up, like he was touching a mirror. "May you rest easy in the knowledge neither me nor mine will harm you this day."

The formal words confirmed Cyrus's suspicions: werewolf. Cyrus placed his palm against Gideon's, his right hand covering his own heart. "The offer is well met, kinsman. I thank you."

Hand still tingling from the heat of Gideon's skin, Cyrus broke contact and swept a formal bow.

Gideon's deep, rich laugh filled the alley, causing Cyrus's head to whip up. "Now that we've got all that formal shit out of the way..." He stuck out his hand. "I'm Gideon Sharp, and I promise I only bite when asked nicely."

"Cyrus Beckett." He managed to shake Gideon's hand without begging the guy to bite him, a good sign. "I promise not to bite, either."

Gideon's sigh was long, theatrical, and cute as all get out. "Pity." He grinned as a loud bass note shook the back wall of the club. "Much as I don't mind standing in an alley talking, I know a good coffee place one block over. You in?"

Coffee? Was he okay with coffee? It took him a minute, but Cyrus nodded. He could do coffee. Unless coffee was a euphemism for sex, in which case he couldn't remember the last time he'd had a really good cup of coffee.