REBEL WEREWOLVES BOOK ONE
ONLY PERFECT OMEGAS
I was warned…
…don’t fall for the sinfully beautiful werewolves.
But even a badass witch can’t resist three scorching hot shifters, even if they’re my deadly enemy in an ancient war.
They call me the Crimson Tide. I’m the last of the Wolf Charmers: hunted witches whose magical powers control wolves.
As a witch hiding from my dark past – and the murder of my parents by werewolves – I must survive by one rule:
# Rule 1: Never trust the angelic perfection of an Omega
Unlucky for the Oxford coven who call me back home from America, I suck at following rules. When I’m forced to claim three gorgeous British shifter princes from rival Wolf Kingdoms, I can’t help loving and protecting them as pack, even if they hold their own dangerous secrets.
Yet the deeper I tumble into the mysterious world of pretty monsters, the further I spiral into sinister peril.
Am I right to trust an Omega? Has my whole life been a lie?
When my aunt’s cruel coven and the bullying Alphas test my Wolf Charmer powers, I’ll either discover what I’m capable of and who I truly am…
…or I’ll die.
PRAISE FOR ONLY PERFECT OMEGAS:
“Wow! I didn’t think that anything could be better than Rosemary A Johns’ last series (Rebel Angels). But this series is absolutely epic! I loved it and I could not put it down. Meet the Rebel Werewolves, they are beautiful and sexy as sin. This book was full of action, love, enemies, and steamy sex. What a ride! You won’t forget these sexy wolves any time soon. They’re what dreams are made of…” – Debbie, Goodreads, 5 Stars
“A fantastic read full of wicked witches, hot angels, wolves, and mages. I can’t wait for the next book!” – Charlotte, BookBub, 5 Stars
The werewolf’s lips brushed across mine, and I jolted. “May I caress you…here?”
I nodded, shuddering. He drew circles over my skin, and I heated like he was touching me inside, coiling the pleasure higher.
Lower…please, touch me lower…
When I squirmed to encourage his fingers below the fabric of my ball gown, he chuckled but only continued his maddeningly slow teasing.
“Kiss her neck, prince,” the god ordered; his voice was like winding silk.
The incubus’ eyes sparkled. He was feeding from the order and my pleasure.
My crimson magic burst out to stroke over all three of the men in my bed, whilst I experienced each of their pulsing, panting pleasure.
“Hold the witch’s hands above her head,” the god commanded. “She won’t be able to stay still for what comes next…”
THE WEREWOLF PRINCES