Enter to Win Paperbacks, Audiobooks, and Gift Cards from Award-Winning Author DB Sieders

Enter to Win Paperbacks, Audiobooks, and Gift Cards from Award-Winning Author DB Sieders


Forest Charmed


DB Sieders

Dryad unleashes the monster within her man to save earth.

Dryad Beverly Forester has a secret worth protecting—a hidden garden. If anything happens to the garden, earth will lose its bounty and source of power and magic.

A formidable, dark elemental beast bent on its destruction is coming for the garden. Beverly’s power alone isn’t enough. She needs a monster of her own to defeat the beast.

Former Marine Jack Roberts has been licking his wounds since a mission gone wrong. He believes the monster hiding inside him killed countless innocent bystanders, and he’s doing his best to keep it from unleashing more death and destruction.

Beverly doesn’t trust Jack, but she needs him. Jack doesn’t trust his monster, but he can’t get rid of it. Now Beverly must heal the man and unleash the monster if she has any chance of saving the earth’s most precious resource—without letting their attraction get in the way.



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Allow us to introduce you to

DB Sieders 

Award-winning author DB Sieders was born and raised in East Tennessee and spent her childhood hiking in the Great Smoky Mountains, wading barefoot in creeks, chasing salamanders, fish, and frogs. Her family loved to tell stories while sitting around the campfire.

Those days of frog chasing sparked her interest in biology. She is a working scientist by day, but she never lost her love of telling stories.

DB writes contemporary fantasy, fantasy romance, and contemporary romance. Her stories feature unlikely heroes and heroines who face a healthy dose of angst as they strive for redemption and a happily ever after, which everyone deserves. She lives in Nashville, Tennessee, with a husband, two children, a rotating number of cats, and her very active imagination.

Excerpt from Forest Charmed (Southern Elemental Guardians Book 5)

She waited for him to say something, yes or no, waited for him to cross the room and take her in his arms or to spin on his heel and walk away. He might ask her to leave. Great gods, maybe she’d moved too fast. Mortal men liked to chase rather than to be chased. Women who pursued men were aggressive and forward, too man-like to be attractive.

Nonsense, but she’d witnessed mortal courtship rituals over the span of her longer than mortal life. Women had come a long way in terms of equality when it came to work and pay, though they still had a long way to go. But when it came to finding mates, tradition still ruled more often than not. 

Still, she stood her ground. Rejection would sting, but she’d recover, and she’d do it with her pride intact. Anyway, Jack might tell her not right now rather than no. Perhaps he truly wasn’t ready to see where the attraction between them could go. He had a long road ahead of him and he’d have to take the journey to recovery on his own for the most part.

But she’d really, really like to meet him on the path from time to time and cheer him on.

She really wanted to kiss him.

But she’d told him it was his move. He had to decide. “What do you want, Jack?”

He cocked his head to the side and absently fiddled with his beard. He’d been scratching it and the mop of dark hair on his head a lot. While clean, it remained disheveled and unkempt. After a long moment, something in his gaze changed. He’d come to some sort of decision.

“I think I’d like a shave.”

She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but she settled on laughter. It wasn’t a no. She could keep herself busy while he took care of grooming. The dishes needed cleaning, the fire could stand a few more logs, and there was always—

“Will you help me?”

His question didn’t quite register at first. She’d been expecting dismissal or some awkward handing of the hat and coat routine and an it’s-not-you-it’s-me speech. He wanted her help?

It made sense from a practical standpoint. It would be easier for her to cut his beard to a length amenable to shaving. Beyond that, however, the intimacy of such an ordinary act held delicious possibilities. Not that he wanted to explore those possibilities, but if he did…

“I’ve got a blade and strop, and some DIY shaving cream,” he said, almost apologetically. “Thought it would be another way to keep my mind occupied out here, doing things the old-fashioned way.”

“I can manage with that,” she said. “I’ll even throw in some herbs to soothe your skin.”

He grinned. It made her wonder what he’d look like without the beard, how silky his hair would feel under her fingertips, if his skin would be as warm and inviting as she imagined. 

“Good,” he said, standing taller. “I’ll get everything together. Be right back.”

Her heart beat a little faster and her skin warmed. No, she needed to get a grip. He’d asked for a shave, nothing more. Gods, she hadn’t experienced this level of excitement since she’d been a hormonal teenager pining for her first crush. He’d been a strapping young farmhand who’d gifted her with kisses and caresses between chores and who’d later showed her paradise before leaving at the end of the season to go seek his fortune. She’d missed him, but it had been for the best. She couldn’t keep a human.

She couldn’t keep an elemental guardian, either, or so she’d thought. Jack had been right. She knew a thing or two about loneliness. Jack wasn’t human, not anymore, and he wasn’t an elemental guardian either. He was something else. He and Gren were more than the sum of their parts, could be even more.

Making peace, talking to the Griffin, listening to him, had already calmed Jack’s body and mind, even if he didn’t realize it. Aside from his slip when she snuck up on him earlier, he’d been relaxed, at ease, and in command of himself. Hopefully Gren had found more peace and calm, too.

And, if her preternatural hearing hadn’t deceived her, Gren had encouraged Jack to take her as a mate.

It was a big step, but she wouldn’t mind testing their…compatibility.

All thoughts ceased when Jack reappeared. He was shirtless, the planes of his body, hard muscle covered with pale, smooth skin, caught the firelight and made her heart beat even faster. He held a razor and strop in one hand, an empty basin and canister of what had to be made from scratch shaving soap in the other. His chest was broad, lightly dusted with dark hair that trailed down his belly and disappeared below the waistline of his flannel pajama pants. The dark hair on his head was damp, droplets of water running down over his shoulders and chest as if caressing him.

Lucky water.

She busied herself filling an ewer with warm water before grabbing the basin. Removing a pair of shears and a stout little brush, she filled the basin with water and then added some herbs to the shaving soap mixture, whipping it up with a spoon. He sat down on a stool and let her work with the sheers. She started with his hair, taking off the length and fuzzy ends until his dark locks hung just above his shoulders.

He rewarded her with a deep masculine groan when she massaged his scalp with fingers dipped in sweet oil infused with soothing herbs. Relaxing under her touch, he leaned into it when she rubbed his neck and shoulders, working knots of tension until they melted under her touch. Trimming his beard proved a bit more challenging. She had to lean down to reach the hairs under his jawline while twisting and turning to keep both sides even.

Her back ached a bit by the time she reached for the shaving soap and she paused to stretch. After lathering his face and sharpening the razor, he shocked her by pulling her down to sit astride him. 

“It’ll be easier to reach,” he said, his hazel eyes gleaming in the lantern light. Then, in an act of pure trust, he titled his chin and exposed his neck to her, eyes closed, and body relaxed.

Mostly relaxed. Her body responded to the growing hardness she felt through the flannel of his pants. Her nipples beaded beneath her cotton sundress and a delicious heat pooled between her legs. It would be hard to concentrate, but she recognized a challenge when brought before her. She’d play his game.

No matter the outcome, they’d both win.



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Jessika Klide

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