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Freakn' Shifters

Delicate Freakn' Flower – Naomi doesn’t want to follow tradition and settle down with a violence-loving, chest thumping shapeshifter. When fate makes her meet not one, but two mates, Naomi digs her heels in and refuses to give in without a fight. Can this delicate freakn’ flower unbend her prejudices enough to recognize she needs a pair of men who can handle her thorns – and her passion? Jealous and Freakn' – For a long time now, Mitchell’s been avoiding Francine, his bratty sister’s friend. However, the girl who tortured him in his youth is all grown up, and when he sees her in the arms of another, a need to claim her overrides all his common sense. But he’s waited too long and fate has decided that he’s going to have to share. Can he accept that claiming Francine means living in a menage, or will his jealousy get in the way of happiness? Already Freakn' Mated – Meeting the woman of his dreams would have worked a lot better if she didn’t already belong to another man. But Chris wasn’t about to let something like ‘until death do us part’ keep him from claiming his woman. He’ll do anything to win his mate, including throwing his attractive cousin at the pesky husband. Freakn Out - Derrick is angry, and bitter, but with good reason. His army buddies should have left him to die instead of dragging him out of the rebel camp—and he meant drag. As if that wasn’t bad enough, fate just has to kick a wolf when he is down and send him the curvy and luscious Janine. Freakn’ Shifters is created by Eve Langlais, an eGlobal Creative Publishing Signed Author.

Eve Langlais · ファンタジー
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240 Chs

Chapter 178

Chaob stared in consternation at the vomit covering his groin. "She puked on me."

"That she did."

"That's not supposed to happen, is it?"

Acat shrugged, his casual expression belied by the concern in his eyes as he checked over their bride. "Grandfather said the potion makes the females ill. I guess vomiting is to be expected."

"Aren't you just a fount of helpfulness," Chaob snarled. "Hand me something to wipe it with."

Continuing to dab at her face with a damp towel, Acat used his free hand to toss him a cloth. "I think she's mad at you."

"I hadn't noticed. Can you blame her, though?"

"Not really. Hundreds of years we've done this ritual and the shaman still haven't found a better method of transmission. You'd think with today's technology and painkillers, we could make the experience a better one."