Showing results by author "Kara Kaminski" in All Categories

Twenty-five alphas. Twenty-five days. One “broken” omega the algorithm swears it can fix. Everyone says my biology is defective. My heats are late or not at all. My scent doesn’t hit alphas the way it should. The one time I almost bonded, he walked away before the bite sank in. So when Naughty Knots offers me a sponsored spot in their Fated Mate Matches pilot, I sign up. It’s supposed to be simple: 1. Spend twenty-five days in their remote mountain facility. 2. Meet twenty-five carefully vetted alphas in a series of scent trials, compatibility modules, and controlled heat support. 3...

I book the bands. I don’t sleep with them. I’m Tabitha Knott. As Naughty Knots’ event coordinator, I wrangle rockstars and other visiting acts. I make sure every guest leaves satisfied. I’ve got rules about alphas with guitars: look, don’t touch. Smell, don’t crave. Don’t fall for a pack of musicians. Then Ruin Theory walks through the lobby doors. Their front man, Carter, smells like whiskey, smoke, and midnight rain—raw power wrapped in a growl that promises I’ll scream his name. Manson, the tattooed drummer, is chaos in ripped jeans, all filthy jokes and fast hands, his...

I hate hockey. Unfortunately, hockey is my family’s religion—and my hometown’s entire personality. When my older brother calls and says the Rinkrats are about to be sold, I should hang up. I escaped this town, this team, and my “perfect omega daughter” role years ago. Instead, I get on a plane. Now I’m back in Puckridge, population: hockey, gossip, and bad decisions. My brother’s coaching the failing team. My ex—the one who chose the sport over me—is the captain trying to hold the locker room together with duct tape and rage. And the franchise? One bad season away from ...

I check packs in. I schedule heats. I’m not supposed to be on the guest list. At Naughty Knots, omegas are meant to be guests, not staff. The retreat likes its employees safely neutral: betas at the front desk, betas in counseling, alpha security on strict suppressants. I’m the exception that proves the rule—a quiet little omega on mandatory blockers, tucked behind the reception desk with a polite smile. My job is simple: Greet the arriving packs. Check them into their luxury suites. Keep my scent under control and my hands to myself. Then they walk in. Five alphas on a 25-day pack ...

Three omegas. One luxury retreat. Twenty-five days snowed in with fated alphas who were never supposed to be ours. When my best friends click “confirm booking” on the Naughty Knots Omega Experience, I think it’s a joke. Twenty-five days at a private mountain retreat. Twenty-five hand-picked alphas to “sample” in scent bars, kink tasters, and heat-safe suites. One over-the-top girls’ trip before we go back to our real lives. We make our rules on the shuttle ride up: No falling in love. No permanent bonds. No fighting over the same alpha. Then the storm rolls in. The road washes ...

I came to film an abandoned mine. I stayed with four alphas who won’t let me go. The Copper Ridge mine sits hours from the nearest town. No cell signal. No neighbors. Just rusted ore carts, collapsed tunnels, and the kind of weird, abandoned silence my AlphaTube subscribers love. I was supposed to shoot the episode and hike out before dark. Then the floor gave way, and so did my plans. Twisted ankle. Check. Dead satellite phone. Check. Nightfall closing in. Check. Then they find me before the cold does—a pack of four alpha mountain men who seem grown from the mountainside itself: Zane...

I came to photograph someone else’s love story. I left with four alphas... and a love story of my own. The photoshoot was simple. Remote mountain overlook, golden hour, one happy couple. Clients gone, gear packed, job done. Then my car died. Phone too. And the sun was already setting. I started walking. Bad idea. But someone found me on that dark mountain road: Sterling—the pack leader whose piercing gray eyes see straight through me. Weston—the gentle giant who speaks through food and tender touches. Torrin—the silent watcher whose restraint hides something fierce. Cassian—the ...

On my first day at Naughty Knots, my boss handed me a clipboard, a smile, and one simple task: “Please keep the Brat Pack from burning the place down.” I thought she was joking. Then I met them. Four alphas and one beta who’ve been coming to the resort three years running, flunking every program Naughty Knots offers: Failed scent compatibility trials. Failed pack dynamics workshops. Failed “How Not to Terrify Omegas” remedial course. They wreck Scent Bar props, turn serious modules into drinking games, and somehow started a hashtag on the resort socials: #BratPackFails Guests love...

I came to plan my best friend’s wedding. I met four alphas who won’t let me go. Naughty Knots Paradise was supposed to be simple: three weeks, one wedding, and zero complications. Then I meet the alphas on staff: Jensen—the head of hospitality who keeps sliding me refreshments when I forget to eat. Corbin—the grumpy event coordinator who hates my ideas and watches me like I’m a problem he can’t solve. Oren—the quiet groundskeeper who keeps to himself and tends to his greenhouse like it’s his sanctuary. And then there’s Rhys—the bride’s brother. The one I’ve wanted ...

I stopped at a highway motel because the whiteout was getting dangerous. I didn’t expect the last room key to come with three hockey men… and a heat I couldn’t hide. The Kestrel Motor Lodge is the kind of place you only choose when the roads turn to ice and the snow comes down sideways—buzzing neon, stale coffee, and one exhausted clerk begging everyone to stay inside. As Isolde Penrose, an unbonded omega headed to Puckridge for a Winter Lights job interview, I tell myself it’s fine. One night. A locked door. A hot shower. Then the lobby fills with alpha scent and damp hockey gear...

I came here to disappear. I didn’t expect four alphas to find me first. I emptied my savings. Ditched my phone three states back. Rented the most remote cabin I could find—no neighbors, no cell service, middle of nowhere. What the listing didn’t mention: the property borders pack territory. I wanted to vanish. To stop looking over my shoulder. To finally feel safe from the ex who thinks I belong to him. Then the storm hits. The roof leaks. My supplies are ruined. And I’m too weak to make it back alone. That’s when they find me. Shepherd—the pack leader whose steady presence ...

I stayed late to help with the Winter Lights toy drive. I didn’t expect the blizzard to lock me in… and my heat to light up like a bonfire. At the Old Mill Icehouse, Winter Lights means packed stands, sticky cocoa, and mountains of donated toys waiting to be sorted. As Elowen Sutter, I’m supposed to be the quiet volunteer who keeps things moving behind the scenes—tape the boxes, stack the plushies, head home before the last Zamboni lap. Until my body decides to betray me early. One minute I’m hauling quilts down a staff corridor. The next, storm protocol slams the building into ...

I won a charity raffle to take a slap shot at center ice. I can’t even skate. The Puckridge Rinkrats are doing a Valentine’s week charity event. Buy a raffle ticket, win a shot on goal during intermission. If you score, the hockey team donates double. I never win anything. Until tonight. Now I have twenty-four hours to learn how to stand on ice and not humiliate myself in front of a thousand people. Three players volunteer to give me a crash course: Graham—the alpha captain who holds my waist like I’m the only thing in the arena worth protecting. Tate—the alpha winger who skates ...

Saving the team was the easy part. Apparently, the hard part is waking up every day in a house full of hockey players I’m technically mated to… and pretending this is just a temporary arrangement. The pack-bond changed everything. On the ice, the Rinkrats are lethal—clean passes, impossible plays, the kind of chemistry that makes commentators talk about “magic” and “miracles.” Off the ice, it’s chaos. My ex-captain still doesn’t trust that I’m here for him and not just the franchise. The rookie winger thinks “pack” means “permission to follow me everywhere like a ...

I’m a mafia princess. The arena darling. One omega who was never supposed to belong to anyone but a stranger in a tailored suit. And then my heat hits in the middle of a sold-out hockey game. One minute the crowd is screaming for their hometown heroes. The next, five alphas on the ice smell me—and the entire team falls apart. The captain misses an easy play, eyes locked on the glass where I’m pressed. The enforcer levels the wrong man just to get between me and the boards. The star center fumbles a puck he could handle in his sleep. The Russian import hits the wall so hard the arena ...

I boarded that flight to start over. I landed with four hockey players who refuse to let me go. New Year’s Eve. Red-eye home. My cheerleading squad just got cut, my apartment lease is up, and my five-year plan is in ashes. All I wanted was to survive the flight and figure out my life later. Then my heat hit at 30,000 feet. No suppressants. No warning. Just me, a cramped cabin, and a pack of professional hockey players in the rows around me. Pax—the pack alpha whose commanding voice makes my knees buckle. Emeric—the charmer who offers me champagne and makes me laugh through the panic. ...

I went to the pharmacy for my suppressants. I left with three strangers… and a heat I couldn’t outrun. Winter Lights turns Puckridge into a glowing postcard—crowded sidewalks, hot cider, and way too many alphas packed into one small town. As Vesper Keene, an unbonded omega who’s been managing alone for way too long, my plan is simple: grab my refill, keep my scent contained, get back to my apartment, and pretend my body isn’t about to betray me while waiting in line. Then the pharmacist announces the words every omega dreads: shipping delay… we’re out of meds. The three men ...

I teach omegas how to walk away from the wrong alphas. I did not plan on getting snowed in with a whole pack of them. My name is Alicia Kohl, and the internet calls me the Omega Whisperer. I sell out arenas telling omegas they don’t have to crawl into the first nest that smells like warm cedar and bad decisions. My books are all about boundaries, standards, and never settling for a pack that doesn’t worship the ground you walk on. Tiny detail: I’ve never actually had a pack of my own. When Naughty Knots invites me to headline their Holiday Pack Dynamics Summit, it’s supposed to be ...

Two years on staff. Hundreds of happy matches… for guests, not for me. I’m Lindsey Lance, surf instructor at Naughty Knots Paradise, and I’ve seen the program work like clockwork. Scent labs. Compatibility modules. Twenty-one days of supervised trials that turn skeptics into bonded omegas. For everyone except me. Then they check in, and suddenly I’m burning up. Four alphas. Best friends since college. Here for the full twenty-one-day experience because solo matching hasn’t worked and they’re done pretending it will. They’re not supposed to be my problem: Jonas, their ...

I came for a quiet drink to forget about Valentine’s Day. I left with four hockey players... and a heat I can’t control. My alpha dumped me the night before Valentine’s Day. Publicly. For a “better” omega. So when four gorgeous hockey players invite me to join their pity party at the bar, I say yes. They’ve been dumped too—their pack omega left them for a rival team, and the media won’t let them forget it. Somewhere around drink four, we make a pact: fake a Valentine’s Day date. One dinner. One performance. Prove we’ve all moved on. Except dinner doesn’t feel fake. And...