Bathhouse Beasts Vol 3: Books 9-12 - Signed Paperback -- mm paranormal shifter romance

Book 9: The Vampire’s Offer -- Stalked in the shadows of the bathhouse by a vampire... and there's no escape...

Book 10: The Orc’s Twink -- A twink walks into a bathhouse. An orc sees him. You can guess at the rest...

Book 11: The Djinn’s Wish -- A mysterious lamp in the bathhouse. A Djinn with a desperate wish. And a man willing to grant them all...

Book 12: The Kraken’s Claim -- A busted shoulder. A secret bathhouse. And a kraken who heals with pleasure... Welcome to the bathhouse. Stay as long as you like. And remember, leave everything at the door.

Excerpt from Book 10: The Orc's Twink
Another day, another shift watching the cruisers come to the park and then inside each other. Then they left, both of us pretending we hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary.
Now, it was my duty, as a conservation officer, to make sure that the park stayed clean, family friendly, and devoid of hullaballoo of all kinds. However, considering the park I managed was off the beaten path and not a family destination, I was happy to let a few things slide. Especially when that meant I got to watch now and then. Not to mention, it was great fodder for the fanfiction I liked to write during my free time.
There were several miles of hiking trails that wound through the park, nearly all of them buried in the woods. Even those that brushed the edge of the lake were so heavily wooded that it was difficult to see the water. It was my job to patrol them every day, make sure everything was in good shape, and keep the park in good condition. And honestly? I loved it.
I'd been at this job for three years now, and the solitude suited me. Most days I drove the park's UTV along the winding paths, the hum of the small engine and the occasional birdsong my only companions. My boss barely checked in, save for a required phone call every Friday. As long as the trash cans were emptied and no one complained, I was left to my own devices.
Today was particularly beautiful. Late spring sunshine filtered through the canopy, creating dappled patterns on the forest floor. I'd already cleared the main entrance area and was heading deeper into the park, my UTV bouncing over exposed roots and small rocks.
I nodded at a middle-aged couple with hiking poles as I passed. They waved back, their faces flushed from exertion. This was the normal routine, just friendly acknowledgments from the few hikers who ventured this far into the woods. But I knew there were others who came here for different reasons.
Just as I rounded a bend near Foxglove Trail, one of the more secluded paths, I heard it. A low groan that definitely wasn't from pain. I slowed the UTV immediately, cutting the engine. Years of experience had taught me to trust my instincts, and right now they were telling me someone was having a good time just off the main trail. Someone who may or may not enjoy an audience.
I stepped quietly from the vehicle, my boots making minimal noise on the soft earth. Moving toward the sound, I ducked behind a large oak about twenty yards from the trail. And that's when I saw them.
A human man was pressed against a tree, his hiking pants around his ankles. Behind him stood what was unmistakably a werewolf, white fur gleaming in the sun. He stood at least six and a half feet tall, his own shorts abandoned a few feet away in the dry leaves. His clawed hands gripped the human's hips with careful restraint.
My breath caught. The human's face was contorted in pleasure, not fear. This was consensual, and hot as hell.