Category: Ethan White

Building a Pack: The Complete Series 4-Pack Bundle

This thrilling and sexy bundle collects all four parts of Ethan White’s Building a Pack series!

Included in this book are:

THE BITE: When his boyfriend of four years leaves him for a woman, Isaac is despondent. At his moment of greatest need, a stranger shows up with an offer: the power to make sure he never has to suffer like this again.

RESCUE: After receiving the bite from Gabriel, Isaac is awakening to the werewolf powers that are now a part of him. His first order of business is rescuing his boyfriend Kevin from the clutches of an enemy that has been forcefully converting gay men straight against their will.

PUNISHMENT: Even though Isaac has already forgiven him for their acrimonious break-up, Kevin still harbors guilt for the things he said and did. He insists that Isaac punish him for his actions. It’s the only way he can think of to atone for the pain he put Isaac through.

REDEMPTION: Henry is an ex-gay priest who takes pride in his work turning gay men away from a life of sin. He also happens to be the perpetrator Isaac, Kevin, and Gabriel have been tracking. When they collide, and it’s discovered that Henry is as much of a victim as the men he converted, Isaac saves him from the life of lies that he’d been forced to live.

Building a Pack: The Complete Series 4-Pack Bundle is a 28,800-word collection of previously published stories.

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Excerpt

I just don’t know where else to turn to…

The earnest words of the prayer, spoken in words slurred with drink, were like a whisper in the breeze that wound through the halls of the temple to the Étrad Sídhthe. The attendants laboriously polishing the gilded statues of men in all types of ecstasy looked about as if perturbed by the sound. “Is that what I think it is?” said one, hanging from the ceiling in a sling of ropes whilst absentmindedly rubbing a statue’s gleaming bicep with a cloth and his crotch.

None of this makes any sense! I just want him back…

“I think it is,” said another of the attendants, cleaning the toes of a golden Adonis with his tongue. He turned his eyes to the vaulted ceiling, to the glimmering silks crossing from one side of the hall to the other, suspended from the tops of the marble columns that paraded down the length of the corridor.

I’ll pay any price! I’ll give you anything you want! I just want him back…

Gaining in strength and bolstered by the benediction of the temple’s attendants, the prayer thundered down the central aisle of the main chamber. The words were steeped in the kind of desperation known only to the most sincere of loves. Disciples of the Étrad Sídhthe in their leathers and sheer cloths looked up from their coupling. Even the Cáel Sídhe took notice.

Perched upon a dais where an altar should have been were two tall thrones. Atop one, Cáel draped his slight, effete body over one of the armrests. In that position, the bright pink veils he wore, that left very little to the imagination to begin with, revealed even more of his lithe form.

With the twitch of an eyebrow, the Cáel looked across to the man seated on the other throne. His eyes glowed with the light of divination as he sought the source of the prayer’s pain. When he found it, he gave the Brogda Sídhe a meaningful look and said, “Well…that’s not good. I’m tempted, but do we even want to touch this right now?”

“It’s definitely not good,” said Brogda. His deep, sensual baritone voice sent a shiver down the spine of every man in the room whose heart held even the slightest dreg of submissiveness. He leaned forward, his brows furrowed with thought.

The dignified purple toga edged in gold stretched across Brogda’s broad chest and bulging muscles as he considered the situation, and the prayer. “But I don’t think that we want to touch it. Not directly, at least. He’s declared war, but you know what it took last time. We need time to get ready.”

“But we are going to do something, right?” said Cáel, emphasizing his words with exaggerated gestures with his right hand. He would have used both hands, but his left was busy stroking the massive cock of the disciple perched on the other armrest of his throne. “This isn’t something we can just let go.

Brogda leaned back with a small, wicked smirk. “Correct. Which means that we’ll have to use someone who is, on the surface at least, not directly affiliated with us.” He rested his palms on the ends of the armrests of his throne. The disciple that had been worshipping his feet doubled his efforts as Brogda’s mighty cock stirred to life. The front of Brogda’s toga tented upward, parting around the rock-hard pillar that was his erection.

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Redemption (Building a Pack #4)

Henry takes pride in the work that he does, helping young, misguided gay men find God and their inner heterosexual. During one such conversion session, proceedings are interrupted by uninvited guests.

Isaac, Kevin, and Gabriel have been on the trail of the man responsible for the conversions in the community and just so happen to catch the perpetrator red-handed, only to find out that Henry’s just another victim.

Everyone deserves a second chance, though, and with his newfound power, Isaac rescues Henry from the false life that had been forced onto him.

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Excerpt

The creak of leather upholstery drew Henry’s attention. His driver, Manuel, was looking at him through the rear-view mirror. Manuel scratched the back of his head, glancing briefly outside the window. “Are you sure about this, padre?” said Manuel. “I don’t like how this place looks. I can drive you back to the church, no problem.”

“Thank you, Manuel,” said Henry, as they pulled up to the front building. The sidewalk was desolate. A plastic bag scraped across the pavement, caught in the wind. “I appreciate your concern, but this is something I must do. God wills it.”

Henry slid his fingers down the seatbelt and unbuckled it. He smoothed down the front of his cassock with one hand as he reached for his briefcase with the other. He stepped out of the car, briefly shivering in the cold.

Taking a breath to center himself, Henry walked over to the driver’s side of the car. He stooped down to the window as Manuel lowered it. “Are you really sure you can’t put this off, padre? Or do this somewhere else?” said Manuel. “Just say the word and I’ll drive you back, no charge.”

Henry laughed. “I’ll be fine, Mr. Enrique,” he said. He held out a hand. Manuel shook it, grip firm. “It was nice meeting you. You don’t have to wait for me. I’ll send you a message when I need a ride back to the parish. Oh, and I’d appreciate it if you kept this between us, Mr. Enrique.”

Manuel stared at the hundred-dollar bill that Henry had left in his hand. He looked up at the priest. “No, padre, I can’t accept this,” he said. “It’s too much!”

“Mr. Enrique,” said Henry, saying the words deliberately, “I would very much appreciate your discretion.”

Manuel gulped. He glanced at the bill and then back at Henry one more time before pocketing the money. “O-of course, padre,” he stammered. “Do you have any idea how long you’ll be? I might, uh, take a few fares after this.”

Henry shook his head. “Sorry, I don’t know for sure. I’ll message you when I’m done. And don’t worry. I know you need to make a living. I won’t mind waiting.” He patted the chassis of the car twice before taking a step back from the curb and gave Manuel a little wave as the cab drove away.

Once Manuel drove out of sight, Henry turned to face the building. He remembered what had been, once. A house of debauchery and sin in one of the city’s most active districts. A nightclub that not only encouraged fornication out of wedlock, but a kind most contemptible in the eyes of the Lord. Now here it stood, empty and condemned, as was proper.

The corners of Henry’s lips twitched into a little smile, knowing that he’d had a hand in shutting not just this awful establishment down, but the entire district of degeneracy that had once surrounded it. He liked to think that he had saved at least a few souls from damnation for his part. Today, Henry hoped, he’d be able to save yet another soul, just as he’d been saved fifteen years ago, when he’d been young, misguided, and lost.

Henry entered the building. The poorly-maintained hinges creaked as he pushed the wooden door open. It wasn’t his first time inside, but it never failed to amaze him how much the place had changed. He still remembered where the dance floor was, and how much time he’d used to spend there. He shook his head. What a distasteful memory.

Quickly, and with purpose, Henry crossed the floor to the back of the building. He entered the stairwell and climbed up to the now-empty offices at the top. From the landing, he went to the right-hand corridor and knocked on the third door on the left.

The door swung open. “You’re late,” said a voice. It belonged to a uniformed police officer about Henry’s age, with blond hair framing a handsome, youthful face, and vivid blue eyes. “We’ve been doing this every month for the last three years and you’re still late.”

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Punishment (Building a Pack #3)

Isaac has his boyfriend back, and he couldn’t be happier. None of it changes what has happened between them, though, and the guilt of the things that Kevin said and did weighs heavily on Kevin’s shoulders.

Isaac doesn’t think there’s anything to forgive. He’s just happy to have Kevin back, but Kevin insists that he needs to make up for it somehow. Left with no other choice, Isaac gives in and he delivers the punishment that Kevin has asked for.

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Excerpt

Crack.

Chains jangled and Isaac flinched. A quiet sob echoed in the spacious room, and leather rasped against bare concrete as the whip dragged on the floor behind Isaac. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the snap of the whip, much less the sound of it hitting bare skin, but Gabriel had insisted he learn.

In all honesty, Isaac never once imagined he would be in a place like this. It wasn’t his first time here, but it was still strange how the rich burgundy walls and the variety of equipment hung up on their racks, called out to him. The coarseness of the bare concrete floor under his feet felt right, too, somehow. Even the way that the leather straps, of the harness he wore across his chest, dug in felt proper.

The tail of the whip trailed behind Isaac as he walked around the St. Andrew’s cross in the middle of the room. Kevin was strung up against it with heavy chains fastened to the thick stainless steel manacles locked around his wrists and ankles. His back was exposed to the air and already had four thin welts marking where the whip had struck.

A cold knot settled into the pit of Isaac’s stomach as he came around to look Kevin in the face. Streaks of tears stained his mate’s cheeks, but Kevin’s jaw was set, and his eyes burned with determination. The instinct to protect was difficult to quell, but Isaac did so, anyway. He resisted the urge to ask if Kevin needed a break—as they’d barely even just begun.

Clenching his hands around the handle of the whip, Isaac walked around to the side of the cross. He took a moment to examine the landscape of Kevin’s back, to choose a good spot to hit that wasn’t too close to the previous lashes.

Two weeks had passed since Isaac and Gabriel rescued Kevin. Isaac didn’t often think about her anymore, but there was still a part of him that wanted to run down the bitch that stole Kevin and tear out her throat. Isaac shook his head. Thinking those thoughts were what had landed him in this predicament in the first place.

Isaac had been stupid enough to tell Gabriel about the anger he felt, about the bloodlust thrumming through his veins, the day after he got Kevin back. That was the first time he ever set foot in the dungeon, only he hadn’t been the punisher, then.

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Rescue (Building a Pack #2)

There are three facts that have turned Isaac’s life upside down. One: magic is real. Two: werewolves are real and he is turning into one. Three: someone out there is turning gay guys straight.

Now that he has received the bite from the werewolf Alpha Gabriel, Isaac has the power to protect the people he loves. The first order of business is rescuing his boyfriend from the clutches of the unscrupulous people turning gay people straight.

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Excerpt

The golden rays of early morning’s light streamed through the blinds drawn over the windows. The plastic slats cast long shadows across the alarm clock on the nightstand, which read 7:30 AM, while the streaks of light illuminated the sparse motes of dust drifting lazily through the air.

With a quiet sigh, Isaac cracked open an eye and smiled. The events of the auspicious day that had changed everything were still fresh in his mind. He never would have thought that weeks of agony and misery starting when his boyfriend “saw the light” and turned straight could culminate in something so beautiful, so pleasurable, and so empowering.

Isaac still felt a pang of hurt in his chest thinking about Kevin. He imagined he would continue to feel that way for a while. Hearing his boyfriend call him a faggot and mean every syllable, watching him walk away into the arms of a woman, had left a wound that would take a while to heal.

Taking a deep breath, Isaac stretched his arms over his head and yawned. The air was thick with the musk of men, the scent of sweat, and the distinct, intoxicating aroma of sex. Between his legs, his cock throbbed with insistent need at the memory of Gabriel holding him, taking him from behind.

Isaac shivered. He ran his fingers over his pecs. The thick slabs of firm muscle had truly matured over the last three weeks. As a bit of a twig his whole life, Isaac had basically given up on the idea of putting on much muscle, if any at all.

Now, three weeks after he was introduced to a world that he’d always thought was nothing but myth and folklore, Isaac had not just grown broader, he’d grown taller, too. He didn’t really understand it, but the magic had somehow turned him into the best physical version of himself.

Isaac felt amazing, though to tell the truth, he felt a not-inconsiderable amount of guilt for feeling that way. Now that he understood the situation a little better thanks to Gabriel, he felt as if his happiness were somehow a betrayal of Kevin.

Isaac knew it was stupid for him to think that just because Kevin, the real Kevin, was suffering, he had to suffer too. And yet, he couldn’t help but feel that way sometimes. Being around Gabriel helped him forget about the strange, complicated way that the human heart felt things, but at his core, he was still just a guy, whatever the magic had done to him.

Fortunately, most of the time, Isaac was more than happy to just bask in the wonderful sensation of being a werewolf. While he wasn’t sure how true the impression he got was, Gabriel had somewhat implied that the full transformation would come about faster if he just let himself enjoy it. Whatever the case, that was just the kind of excuse that Isaac could use to justify the way he felt to himself.

Because Isaac felt satisfied in a way that he had never been before. He felt happy. He felt secure. He felt full. And not in the least because there was a thick cock lodged in his hole, and a pair of furry muscular arms wrapped around his waist.

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The Bite (Building a Pack #1)

As if it wasn’t bad enough that he’d lost his boyfriend of four years, Isaac discovered that Kevin had left him for a woman. The universe was laughing at him. He was sure of it. He didn’t think he’d ever been more miserable in his life.

Isaac would have happily drowned in his anguish, but when a handsome stranger shows up at his doorstep, he feels the slightest flicker of hope. When the stranger offers him the power to ensure that he would never have to feel so miserable again, the temptation is too great to refuse.

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Excerpt

I just don’t know where else to turn to…

The earnest words of the prayer, spoken in words slurred with drink, were like a whisper in the breeze that wound through the halls of the temple to the Étrad Sídhthe. The attendants laboriously polishing the gilded statues of men in all types of ecstasy looked about as if perturbed by the sound. “Is that what I think it is?” said one, hanging from the ceiling in a sling of ropes whilst absentmindedly rubbing a statue’s gleaming bicep with a cloth and his crotch.

None of this makes any sense! I just want him back…

“I think it is,” said another of the attendants, cleaning the toes of a golden Adonis with his tongue. He turned his eyes to the vaulted ceiling, to the glimmering silks crossing from one side of the hall to the other, suspended from the tops of the marble columns that paraded down the length of the corridor.

I’ll pay any price! I’ll give you anything you want! I just want him back…

Gaining in strength and bolstered by the benediction of the temple’s attendants, the prayer thundered down the central aisle of the main chamber. The words were steeped in the kind of desperation known only to the most sincere of loves. Disciples of the Étrad Sídhthe in their leathers and sheer cloths looked up from their coupling. Even the Cáel Sídhe took notice.

Perched upon a dais where an altar should have been were two tall thrones. Atop one, Cáel draped his slight, effete body over one of the armrests. In that position, the bright pink veils he wore, that left very little to the imagination to begin with, revealed even more of his lithe form.

With the twitch of an eyebrow, the Cáel looked across to the man seated on the other throne. His eyes glowed with the light of divination as he sought the source of the prayer’s pain. When he found it, he gave the Brogda Sídhe a meaningful look and said, “Well…that’s not good. I’m tempted, but do we even want to touch this right now?”

“It’s definitely not good,” said Brogda. His deep, sensual baritone voice sent a shiver down the spine of every man in the room whose heart held even the slightest dreg of submissiveness. He leaned forward, his brows furrowed with thought.

The dignified purple toga edged in gold stretched across Brogda’s broad chest and bulging muscles as he considered the situation, and the prayer. “But I don’t think that we want to touch it. Not directly, at least. He’s declared war, but you know what it took last time. We need time to get ready.”

“But we are going to do something, right?” said Cáel, emphasizing his words with exaggerated gestures with his right hand. He would have used both hands, but his left was busy stroking the massive cock of the disciple perched on the other armrest of his throne. “This isn’t something we can just let go.

Brogda leaned back with a small, wicked smirk. “Correct. Which means that we’ll have to use someone who is, on the surface at least, not directly affiliated with us.” He rested his palms on the ends of the armrests of his throne. The disciple that had been worshipping his feet doubled his efforts as Brogda’s mighty cock stirred to life. The front of Brogda’s toga tented upward, parting around the rock-hard pillar that was his erection.

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A Hero Enslaved: 4-Pack Bundle

Corey Cooper is a straight-A university student by day and a crime-fighting superhuman with control over lightning and the weather by night, but Corey Cooper is a hero with a deep, dark secret that isn’t very heroic at all.

As he struggles with villains that threaten the safety of the citizens of Selene City, the place he is sworn to protect, Corey must also contend with himself and the fantasies that are taking him down a dark path.

The hero’s willpower is not absolute. With every indulgence he finds himself mired ever deeper in his insidious craving to surrender. Unknown to him, the object of his desires is making moves in Selene City, and his unique persuasion may just make all his darkest fantasies come true.

A Hero Enslaved: The Complete Series is a 28,000-word collection of all four stories in the A Hero Enslaved series.

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Excerpt

The front doors of the bank burst outward in a hail of hot glass shards as Tempest delicately touched down on the street outside. It had been cool all day, especially higher up above the buildings, but the fire currently raging in the lobby of the Plutarch National on High Street was enough to raise the ambient temperature by at least a few degrees.

If not for the imminent danger, it would actually have been rather pleasant to stand out by the sidewalk in front of the bank. Even the thermo-regulated suit that Tempest wore, with its midnight blue composite fabric that clung to every chiseled plane of his young body, hadn’t quite managed to keep the chill of the night away, especially as he had been flying at regulation altitude above the city for the last two hours.

Tempest surveyed the situation as he waited for further information from headquarters. Police and emergency respondents had already arrived, but they were keeping their distance because no one knew for sure if there was still an active super threat inside the building.

For the time being, the first-responders were more concerned with maintaining a safe perimeter around the building and taking care of any civilians who were managing to make it out of the structure.

The communicator on Tempest’s wrist beeped once. “SIBYL, what do you have for me?” he said. If he was being honest, the situation looked pretty dire. He could only hope that there was no one left inside the building. Even if he called up a rainstorm, he doubted it would do much to temper the flames.

It would appear that there is no longer any sign of civilian life inside the building,” the communicator chirped. “It is difficult to ascertain the number of fatalities at this moment due to fire damage, but it appears that the majority of personnel and clientele were able to evacuate before the intensity of the blaze reached the critical point.

Tempest nodded. Burning to death was one of the nastiest ways to go. There were far too many pyromaniac villains in the world. He could only hope that anyone who hadn’t managed to get out had died from smoke inhalation rather than the fire itself.

“Thank you, SIBYL. Do we have an active threat still inside the building?” said Tempest. “Is it safe to give the go-ahead to the emergency crews on standby?”

Visibility inside the building is near-zero, Tempest,” the communicator chirped. “Approximately 70% of security cameras in the first, second, and third floors have been destroyed by the fire. However, it appears that there is still deliberate movement inside the building. There may be an active threat, but it is likely safe to cut power.

“Will do, SIBYL,” said Tempest, quickly jogging over to the supervisor of the response team. He relayed the information that SIBYL had given and explained his own plan. A minute later, what few lights remained on in the building went off. It was time to flush out the villain.

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Servitude (A Hero Enslaved #4)

Corey Cooper, University Student by day and crime-fighting superhero by night, has a problem. He fantasizes about being dominated and enslaved by the supervillain Imperious. Thanks to a stupid mistake, every filthy wish he’s had in the last few months seems to be coming true.

Corey has been captured by Imperious, and he can’t seem to find it in himself to make a bid for freedom. He has been alone for who knows how many days, and it’s only a matter of time before Imperious comes back to finish the job. The question is whether Corey will let it happen without a fight.

Servitude is an 8,600-word short story and part four of a four-part series.

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Unwelcome Visitors (A Hero Enslaved #3)

Corey Cooper, straight-A student by day and crime-fighting superhero by night, can’t get the idea of being dominated and enslaved by the supervillain Imperious out of his head. He thought the fantasies would eventually die down, but if anything, they’ve only gotten worse.

An attack by Shatter, a villain thought to have disappeared two years ago, provides a convenient distraction for Corey but he ends up biting off more than he can chew when he finds out that Shatter is a lot stronger than he was when he disappeared.

Unwelcome Visitors is a 6,400-word short story and part three of a four-part series.

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Shadowy Desire (A Hero Enslaved #2)

Corey Cooper is a university student by day. In his spare time, he is the crime-fighting superhero Tempest but he bears a deep, dark secret: he fantasizes about being dominated and enslaved by a supervillain.

With midterms over, Corey finally has a chance to relax. After sorting things out at his part-time job, Corey heads back to his dorm room to have some important alone time and to indulge that dark craving that he just can’t get out of his head.

Shadowy Desire is a 6,700-word short story and part two of a four-part series.

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Guilty Pleasure (A Hero Enslaved #1)

Corey Cooper is a university student by day, and a crime-fighting superhero that goes by the name of Tempest at night. He is Selene City’s guardian, and a golden boy by most standards, an upstanding paragon of justice for the people that he has sworn to protect.

Though initially enthusiastic about his role as a superhero and defender of the defenseless, the years have disillusioned Corey, and he continues more out of obligation than anything else. He craves excitement, something other than the endlessly monotonous parade of self-centered villains.

In Corey’s search for spice in his life, he develops a deep, dark longing that could ruin him forever if exposed.

Guilty Pleasure is a 6,600-word short story and part one of a four-part series.

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