Winning the Campaign Manager
by Lucy Felthouse
Genre: Erotic paranormal romance, m/m
Politics has never
been so sexy!
Cade Avery is running for a position on his local county
council. He’s extremely good at what he does and is a valuable asset to his community. The trouble is, he upsets people, says the wrong things, and rides rough-shod over other people’s plans and ideas. His assistant, Mary, eager to
improve Cade’s public image, hires him a campaign manager.
Quentin Rayworth is thrilled to be working with such a
formidable public figure. It’ll be a challenge, but he’s confident he can help
Cade to win the election, and knows that the achievement will look impressive
on his CV.
It’s soon clear that the two men are set to be an excellent
team. That is, until Cade’s werewolf makes its intentions known—in Quentin, it
has found its mate, and it will not rest until he has claimed him. But can
Cade—and his wolf—win over the campaign manager?

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“You’ve done what?” Cade Avery yelled, fixing his long-time
friend and colleague, Mary Summers, with a glare. He slammed his hands down on
his desk, making a bunch of pens jump and rattle, and causing water to splash
over the side of his glass. “Why the hell would you do such a thing?”
Mary, by now used to Cade’s temper and frequent outbursts,
didn’t flinch. Standing firm on the other side of his desk, she calmly stated,
“You heard me, Cade. I’ve appointed you a campaign manager. And as for the why,
I think it’s pretty damn obvious.”
“Not to me,” he grumbled, snatching a handful of tissues
from the box in his top drawer and swiping irritably at the liquid he’d spilled.
“Seems like an unnecessary expense.”
With a heavy sigh, Mary replied, “Do you want to win this
bloody election or not?”
“Yes, of course I do. What sort of a stupid question is
“Well then, you need a campaign manager. The rest of the
team and I already have enough on our plates. We can’t handle that side of
things, too. Not to mention the fact that you really need someone with …
expertise … in that department. Someone who can boost your public image, make
you more likeable … you know, so people will actually vote for you.”
Screwing up the wad of soggy tissue and dumping it in the
wastebasket beside him, Cade snapped his gaze to Mary. She stood, the
ever-present iPad clutched against her chest, looking as determined and
immovable as a five-feet-one, slim thirty-five-year-old was ever going to get.
He sat back in his chair and folded his arms. “What’s wrong
with my public image?”
Rolling her eyes heavenward, her body tensing, Mary’s cool
demeanor actually looked on the verge of cracking. Taking a deep breath and
releasing it, she looked back at him. “Give me strength, Cade. Are you fucking
She may have used the deep breath and probably a considerable amount of willpower to dampen down her physical reaction to his question, but her actual words gave her true state of mind away. As a rule, the word “bloody” was as bad as it got for Mary. To have enticed a “fucking” out of her, and within the same conversation, no less, meant she was in real danger of losing her temper with him. And despite her diminutive frame and usually chilled-out personality—especially in comparison with his huge frame and fiery
personality—when she did lose it, she was utterly terrifying. Possibly the fact
that she rarely got angry was what made it so potent when she did. Mary’s ire
could turn even the thickest-skinned person into a blubbering wreck.
“Mary,” he cooed, backtracking quickly, “come on, sit down.
Why do you always insist on standing up in here?”
“Because, unless we’re having a meeting, I don’t generally
need to stay long. I normally impart my information, you give your feedback,
and we get on with our day.” She shifted restlessly and narrowed her eyes. “But
today, it seems, you’re having a bit of a brain fart. Do I really need to spell
it out for you?”
Raising his eyebrows at her increasing irritation, and
wondering if there was something going on in her private life that was making
her so touchy, he nodded. “Yes, I really think you do.”
A few seconds of silence passed, in which Mary again seemed
to be getting a grip on her irritation. She finally said, “All right. But don’t
forget; you asked for it.”
Author Bio:
Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance
novels Stately Pleasures (named in
the top 5 of’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never
Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller), Eyes
Wide Open
(winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award,
and an Amazon bestseller), The
Persecution of the Wolves
and Hiding
in Plain Sight.
Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over
160 publications to her name. She owns Erotica
For All
, and is one eighth of The
Brit Babes
. Find out more about her writing at, or on Twitter or Facebook. Sign up for
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