Writing Update by L.V. Lane

It has been a busy time post Christmas and lots of writing has been going on!

Fawn

I am finalizing Fawn this week. For those of you on my Ream or Patreon ARC tiers, the ARCs will be going out this Friday! A whole month before release! 🥳

For everyone else, rest assured, it will be ready for release date and available in KU from the 7th March.

I've had so much fun with this books. As per usual, lots of smuty good times and adventure.🫦

Mafia book to come...

I have just hit 30k, which I am guessing might be 30-50% through the draft.

Not a knot in sight! It's a contemporary MFM mafia, and I am SO excited 🥳

This is for those who like extra dark book themes with dub-con, power imbalance, and unhinged heroes. There is a lot of angst and tension, and the trigger list will be a mile long!

Fantasy Knight book to come...

A coveted prey spin-off series. The opening novella is done at 35k

At the moment I am sitting on this as it ends on a cliffhanger.

Installment one is a MF.

The opening story leaves it, well, open, and I'm like a kid in a sweet shop with too many options on what to do next 🤣

I'll Leave you with a little teaser graphic for Fawn!

Liv ❤️

Fawn Pre-order >>> HERE

Add to Goodreads >>> HERE

Spicy Fae Omegaverse Romance ~ How to Keep a Fae by L.V. Lane

Ready for a new Coveted Prety romance? Sneaky peek at How to Keep a Fae...

Chapter One

Adaline

Feeder. That is my designation. That is what I am. You’ll find me at the bottom of the hierarchy, barely above the breeders.

Not that I consider myself superior to anyone and might even envy the breeders in the still of the night.

Here in Sanctum, status among fae is all about the power of your blood and what it offers to the alpha warriors who take it. The blood of breeders has no benefit, save it acts as an aphrodisiac for the alphas given leave to rut them through their heat.

To breed them.

I have never felt an alpha’s touch during my heats. Feeders are isolated—alone, untended.

Sometimes, I wish I were a breeder, to have a child to nurture, to feel them grow within my body, to love him or her until the time comes when we must part, even though that is a pain of a different kind.

Alpha children are initiated, changed so they can consume blood, indoctrinated, and trained as warriors and in war. At least a female child gets the stay with her mother.

I sigh. That is a sore point, too.

Breeders, feeders, and alphas are all lowly in the eyes of the imperials—the fae with the potent blood that heals and enhances the recipient and can even offer longevity of life.

I dream of such a life. To be imperial is to hold a position of command and power and to love someone of your choosing, maybe even to take a mate.

Feeders do not mate, breeders neither, at least not often. And we definitely do not get any choice in the warriors allocated to us.

Blood.

Power.

We have a culture that is all about surviving amid the endless war.

Dreams are not for me. I am a feeder. That is my purpose. To give myself and my blood freely to any warrior in need.

To any warrior, whether he is in need or not.

Connection.

I crave a connection. Something that lasts beyond the intimacy of the moment. The younger me was content to enjoy the pleasures of many, but now I find I want something more. Maybe there comes a time when all feeders harbor these feelings. Certainly they are whispered often enough during quiet times when the alphas have no need of us.

It is not all bad. There is humor and laughter amid the sorrow; joy, and passion, too. I am not the only omega who has snuck into the warrior hall during celebrations to seek the attention of an alpha for no reason other than pleasure. I am a fae, a wingless fairy, and an omega. We are known for our gregarious, giving nature. We love pretty things and comfort. We love to dance and sing. As for mischief, it is part of our soul.

But we are also sensitive.

We feel everything, both good and bad, so very deeply.

My faraway look redirects to my chamber, the small, intimate space with stone walls hung with thick tapestries and the aged wooden floor covered in an equally vibrant rug. My nest—the essential part of every omega’s room—and whatever her rank or breed, and on which I lounge, is thickly layered with brightly woven blankets and decorated cushions. They do not skimp on our comfort, at least. House Silva, my house, one of many within the undercroft of Sanctum, is but a small cog in a giant system of wheels, playing a part. In the cruel world we live there is no place for compassion beyond how it might be used to facilitate our survival.

Our harsh, precarious existence juxtaposes the closeted nature of our lives and the luxury of our rooms. On one side, feeders and breeders do not experience war, nor do we ever leave Sanctum. On the other, the impacts are thrust upon us, breaking us as surely as any blade or blow when the warriors return littered with wounds.

My gaze lowers to the book I was reading, its pages worn from use. It is one of many secretly passed among feeders and breeders, the low fae and humans of the undercroft. Every page is filled with all we long for: love, companionship, a family unit… a happily ever after.

This one is about a young fae claimed, scandalously, by not one but four mates. Such books are forbidden, and should it be discovered in my possession, punishment would be swift and sure. That Denna, the mistress of House Silva, would also remove the cherished book from circulation is by far the worst punishment of all.

I feel like I am still new to this, yet at other times, I feel inexplicably old. I am still young in fae years, although if I were human, I would be considered mature.

I think that makes it worse. Holds me in reserve from allowing my heart to attach and seek favorites. Knowing the mainly human alphas who pass through our lives will age faster than us. Even a lowly feeder like myself would live longer than a warrior, for a while a few of them carry fae blood from their birth mothers, should they have been born to a breeder, more often, they are alphas conscripted from human lands.

Attachments.

“We cannot form attachments.” How often does our house mistress, Denna, drill that into us?

Frequently.

“There is only pain in that pathway,” she said.

Denna is cold and hard, but underlying it is pain that she chooses not to share with me or any of the feeders in her house. Her story is her own, I decide bitterly. We each have one. We each have hopes, fears, and aspirations.

We each lose sight of them.

“Adaline!” Denna’s stern hail rouses me from my musings.

I quickly snap my book shut and thrust it deep under the cushions of my nest. My house mistress is not one for wiles or fancies. She deals harshly with any signs of emotion in us, and worse, should any of us dare show favor to one male over another. Many have favorites, although they do not speak of them beyond whispers and shared empathy under the sensitive gaze of sister feeders and breeders.

I rush to my doorway and push the thick woven covering aside. Doors are not permitted here, but the covering provides some semblance of privacy, hiding us from view even if it does little to mute sounds.

My heart rate quickens as I peer out into the corridor. I am not the only omega at her doorway, for Denna is calling many names.

Behind her come the warriors, alphas, bloody and wounded from battle, returned home to us through the portal. My stomach turns over with pity and rage. That I lie upon a fancy nest while they fight to keep us safe breaks me down and wounds my heart.

Excerpt How to Keep a Fae Copyright © 2024 L.V. Lane

Coming 15th November!

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How to Keep a Fae

I’m a feeder. My role is to give blood.

A transaction, nothing more.

We’re not supposed to have favorites nor nurture infatuations.

And we’re definitely, under no circumstances, supposed to fall in love.

But I did—twice.

A human alpha who steals my breath and calls me his queen.

An intense, dominant fae warrior who unbridles new desires.

I wonder if they feel the same way.

If they ever talk about me.

As it turns out, the two men are best friends and they both want to claim me.

What they haven’t realized is that they’re both pursuing the same fae… at least, not yet.

Trope breakdown

• MFM fae vampire novel

• Forbidden love

• Love triangle to Why choose

• Alpha vampire MMC

• Fae vampire MMC

• Fae omega FMC

• H heal from her 🩸🥛💦

• DVP with 🪢

• Mating, breeding & HEA!

Pre-order >>> HERE

Add to Goodreads >>> HERE

Spicy Fantasy Omegaverse Romance ~ Tamed for Her Pleasure by L.V. Lane

Spicy Barbarian Omegaverse Romance ~ Tamed for Her Pleasure by L.V. Lane

Beautiful cover art by @NguyenKamZ

Sneaky peek at the first chapter...

Chapter 1

Alfred

“Oh, he’s so brave!”

“Please be careful, Alfred.”

“Return back to us safely.”

As I exit the clan hall with my sister at my side, I am met with a bleak winter wind and a bevy of beauties who gather on the steps, fluttering lashes and cooing over me. Beyond the village lasses, warriors await me, horses ready, finalizing weapons and supply checks.

I catch Etta’s poorly suppressed smile. My sister’s belly is fit to pop. There is something about a breeding female that makes them bolder.

Not that my sister ever lacked boldness. She was a fine warrior maiden in her time before her first babe came along. Certainly, she can handle herself still and could dispense with any fool who dared to threaten her or her child. She would gut the bastard within seconds.

“Your resistance only stirs them to greater enthusiasm,” she says, giving a pointed look to where a fight almost breaks out among the lasses in question as they argue about who will hand me my cloak. “Taking a mate is not the end of life, brother dear.”

I could point out that she should likewise take a mate and remind her that she does not need to bring up her children alone. But given she lost her first mate not so long ago, and carries their second child, it is a delicate subject that I rarely broach. Brent was a close friend of mine, and I miss the bastard too.

And so, all focus falls on me: the unmated king who, nearing thirty, is well past the age where the people of the clan, young and old, feel I should have settled down. My father stood down as clan king a few years back. He now enjoys a quieter pace of life with my mother, an omega, who still ventures to other clans offering advice to omegas and betas who mate with alphas.

I was ready to take on the responsibility of the role.

I wasn’t ready for all the fuss that would ensue regarding my unmated status.

I’m a man in my prime. Why the fuck would I settle down?

Mating is fraught with risks—my sister is testament to that. One day I will meet someone who makes me forget the reasons not to; until then I can enjoy the charms of many.

Not that I’ve done a lot of enjoying of late. Every damn lass I bed is too busy crowing about being my mate and the next queen of the clan.

They come alone—or in twos or threes, like that might encourage me—and are shameless, slipping into my bed of a night and trying to accost me at any hour of the day when I am not otherwise engaged. Even when I am engaged—for they very rarely mind who is around—with nimble fingers, they can have my cock out and their lips wrapped around it in seconds. This, I openly admit, weakens my resolve to peel them off.

I hate to say it, but it has reached a stage where it is all getting very vexing.

I scowl at the lasses as they flitter around me, petting me anywhere they can reach. Finally, I wrest my cloak from two who are about to come to blows over who will present it to me… and someone squeezes my ass.

“Gods! Have you no shame, Cassandra?” I pluck her hand off as she tries to sneak it under my leather jerkin.

Cassandra appears only marginally contrite as I set her away.

Shaking her head, my sister slips away to share a few words with Lor. He is the reason we leave with war in mind this day, for his two mates have been taken.

“Fuck’s sake,” Espen, my younger brother and second-in-command, mutters, though without heat, as he hands me the reins to my horse. “No man in the clan will get a look in until you have chosen a damn mate or mates.”

“I am considering going celibate,” I deadpan.

Espen emits a deep guffaw. Even Lor, who is rightly worried for his mates, cracks a smile at my expense. The big shifter has laid claim not only to a pretty omega but also to a barbarian alpha. How exactly that might play out when the alpha he claimed is a dominant bastard, I wouldn’t like to speculate. But each to their own is the way of the clans.

“Keep a close watch,” I say to Espen. “We leave you vulnerable with so many warriors gone.”

He nods and clasps my arm. “Bring them back safe, brother.”

Our mother produced a brood of strapping alpha sons. There are five of us altogether, and every one of us is a capable warrior. I mount, knowing our clan is in good hands under Espen’s watch.

“We ride!” At my call, we leave for the rendezvous point.

The trees whistle past. The snow, while not yet heavy enough to preclude travel, is nevertheless deep underneath our horses’ hooves, so I keep one eye on the trail as my mind focuses on what is about to come.

It is no small business setting oneself to war against a Hydornian kingdom. Mostly, they keep to themselves, and we keep to ourselves. But that is not an option when they have snatched a mated lass.

Word has been sent to the other clans, rallying them to our cause. I believe most will come. Even though it is late in the season and the passage becomes difficult at this time of year, there is safety in numbers and in presenting a united front.

We have supported Hydornia in its war against the Blighten for many years. Our young alphas head for the borderlands, for their enemy is also ours, and it is in everyone’s interest to keep the green-skinned bastards out of our lands. The Hydornians are happy to take our men to fight, yet still look down on us and our ways just because we place no boundaries on how mating, marriage, and love might manifest: whether that is more than one lass with a man or more than one man with a lass. As long as hearts and minds are congenial, that is our way.

When Lor and Aston mated Freya, a sacred bond was formed… regardless of whether questionable means led to her claiming or whether the lass in question was born in Hydornia.

Now she is ours, and we shall get her back, or all who live in the great city of Pershore will find themselves surrounded and under siege.

I have no intention of painting the city streets red. I am no heathen for all that I may be a barbarian. Even so, taking a walled city is no easy feat, and to try would be folly. It won’t come to that. The fancy king in residence will shit his pants when he sees a barbarian horde at his city wall. He will recognizes his mistake in taking a clansman’s mate.

But if he doesn’t… If we must…

Before the Goddess, Freya belongs to Aston and Lor.

Before the Goddess, they will be reunited, or our whole clan is ready and willing to lay down their lives in the trying.

Excerpt The Tamed for Her Pleasure Copyright © 2024 L.V. Lane

Coming 9th Aug!

Spicy Barbarian Omegaverse Romance ~ Tamed for Her Pleasure by L.V. Lane

Tamed for Her Pleasure

Spicy Fantasy Omegaverse Romance

Coveted Prey Book 23

When the king of a barbarian horde turns out to be unexpectedly hot…

All I wanted to do was stop a war.

A sensible princess would have talked to her father and beseeched him to see sense. Instead, I do what I absolutely should not do: take my horse and leave the safety of my castle to parley with the enemy myself.

Only the barbarian horde waiting to besiege our home turns out to be larger than I expect… and deeply unhappy when I incapacitate half a dozen of their best men.

They take me to the king in charge… which is where my plans come undone.

Instead of declaring my intentions to help free their brethren from my father’s dungeon, I throw a challenge at their king’s feet.

Why?

Because if there were degrees of alphaness, the seven-foot-tall barbarian with a stern glint in his eyes and an air of deadly grace would be at the top. When he makes an allusion toward taming me, well, it’s a challenge I can’t possibly resist.

I want him to try.

I might secretly want him to succeed.

Just a little taste of the forbidden. Just one touch. An experience I can take away lest I wonder for the rest of my life what it might have been like.

Only barbarians play by their own rules. I am tossed over his broad shoulder, taken to his tent, and subsequently liberated of all my daggers… even the hidden ones that no one finds.

There are very few occasions in my life when I feel like I might have bitten off more than I can chew, but as I am dropped, weaponless, to his fur bed, I believe this is one.

📣Content advice: Consensual MF alpha/beta spicy fantasy omageverse romance with light discipline using the hand / belt, light bondage, and mild violence.

🔮Themes include an alpha barbarian meeting his match with an indomitable warrior princess.

📗 Can be read as a standalone.

🤝 Related stories or characters: Trained for Their Pleasure, Bound for Their Pleasure

📏 Novel

Pre-order >>> HERE

Add to Goodreads >>> HERE

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Have you read The Wolf in My Tavern yet? 🐺

Now live and available in Kindle Unlimited!

The Wolf in My Tavern by L.V. Lane