Page 26 of Dirty December

Belgravia Security

The Man with the Umbrella

Off-Court

Risky Business in Rovigo

Historical Romance

Alliance

Keep Reading for excerpts from

the cozy-but-spicy paranormal romances

The Minotaur’s Valentine, Velvet Wings, and Possessed by the Leonid King.

The Minotaur’s Valentine

By S.C. Principale

Milo has finally met the girl of his dreams. She’s funny, into 80’s metal, loves animals, and wants to be a vet.

And that might come in handy since he’s half-bull—a minotaur, to be exact.

But Libby is 100% human and not even aware of the monsters and magic that exist in her new town of Pine Ridge, New York. Everyone tells Milo to be patient and stay in the shadows. Libby’s smart and she’ll eventually figure out that something’s different about this innocent-looking suburb...

Libby Ingersol loves Pine Ridge, but it’s lonely being the new girl in town. As another Valentine’s Day looms, single Libby is desperate to get out and mingle. When she tries the Pine Ridge club scene, things go wildly wrong.

Can a shy minotaur who wears his heart on his hoof make things go right and salvage Libby’s Valentine’s night?

The Minotaur’s Valentine is a feel-good monster romance with a cinnamon roll hero. Just a warning... cinnamon isn’t the only spice you’ll find in this happily-ever-after tale of monster love!

Chapter One: Milo

The Night Market is exactly what it says it is. It’s a market that’s only open at night. It looks like one of those flea markets or farmers’ markets that are set up in the civic center parking lot or a school gym during winter break. In the case of the Pine Ridge Night Market, there are about two dozen small stalls set up in the empty lot behind the Pine Loft Coffee Shop. We sell everything from homemade candy and potpourri to weapons for the discerning demon hunter and pre-made potions for nervous spellcasters.

Obviously, you have to know where to look. (And when to look. We’re not open every night.)

And humans... humans aren’t excluded, especially not humans who’ve lived in Pine Ridge for a long time, but most won’t see the Night Market the way I do.

I don’t have specially enhanced vision or anything. No superpowers. I’m just your average, twenty-something minotaur. I put on my jeans one hoof at a time, just like everyone else.

“Milo. Can you fix my watch fob?”

“What’s the trouble, Mr. Minegold? Ooh, hey, J.J.” I take the watch from the tall, thin, distinguished man wrapped in a black frock coat and bright tartan muffler. His adopted grandson, J.J., is strapped to his hip in one of those stretchy baby-sling contraptions. I look around for something to give the kid, something that won’t kill him. I reach under the stall into my big red tackle box and take out several inches of silver chain. “Hereyou go, little man. Oh!” I draw back at the last second. “It’s silver. Can he touch it?”

“Silver doesn’t harm Jesse Jakob.” Mr. Minegold savors the name, letting his accent become more pronounced as he caresses the curly little head. “Jesse Jakob, you naughty mite! You have tossed off your wooly hat. Your mama and papa won’t like that. I must retrace my steps, Milo. I confess I was lingering too long at the fudge stand!”

“I can understand that, Mr. Minegold! I’ll look at the watch fob, and you find J.J.’s hat.” I wave them off. J.J. waggles his chubby fist, which is now curled around the silver chain.

Dang. Kids are cute. Even human kids. I know J.J. isn’t fully human, but he looks human. His dad, Jesse, is a vamp (so is Mr. Minegold), and his mom is... something demon-y? I don't know the details, but she is gorgeous.

My brother, Bill, would tease me if he were still living in town. He’d call me out on my interest in interspecies couples. As soon as Bill turned twenty, he moved back to the family homestead in Greece. He has a beautiful wife and two kids now. He’d also tell me that I’m running out of time to find a girl. I’m almost thirty. Minotaur women like their bulls young, that’s what he’d say.

But I don’t want to marry a person based on their outer shell, that’s what I’d tell him.

And that’s how the fight would start. That’s how the same dumb argument always starts. And every time, my parents snort and exchange glances and go take their coffee into the kitchen.

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