That stupid dog now had six girlfriends.
Zach came around the corner to find his mate stretched belly-down across the grass. Normally he’d get a hard-on as soon as he saw her, but he became distracted. Distracted by the orange-and-black-striped fur ball in her hands. Since all shifters were born as human and didn’t shift until much older, what she held in her hands could only be one thing…
“Woman, is that a tiger cub?”
Sara cringed, then looked at him over her shoulder. “Oh, you’re home early.”
“No I’m not. Answer me.”
“Ban needs her to stay here for a little while. Just ’til he’s ready to move her into a rescue. He found her at a local circus and said they’d been mean to her and her mother. But the rescue could only handle the mother right now because she’s really sick. I offered to help by keeping the cub away from her until she’s better.”
“It’s a tiger cub, Sara. A real tiger cub. Not a kitten.”
“I know.”
Zach stared at her. For a woman who really didn’t want children…
“Ban said no more than six months.”
“Six months?”
“Don’t yell.”
She held the cub up, so tiny at this point it comfortably fit in her two hands. In three months or so, however, it would be the size of Roscoe. In six months it would be able to bite off Roscoe’s head.
“Look at her, Zach. Look at those blue eyes. Eventually they’ll turn gold, but right now they’re blue. How cool is that? And she’s so sweet. She just needs a little love.”
“And about five hundred pounds of meat a day.”
“Oh, that won’t be for another year or two.”
Zach sighed and rubbed the palms of his hands against his eyes.
When did his life get so out of control? He had hillbillies on his front porch. His best friend was madly in love with a psychopath. There was a half-naked beautiful woman asleep on top of one of the mightiest predators known to man. And, of course, there were tigers. He had big, hillbilly tigers in his home while his mate rubbed a full-blood tiger cub against his cheek and made cooing sounds.
He pulled his hands away from his face and looked down into those beautiful brown eyes. She smiled, causing the scar on one side of her face to crinkle up a bit. God help him, he never saw anything sexier.
Shit. Dick went hard.
“Six months and then it goes. Even if that means a tiger-headed blanket on our bed.”
Sara crouched down to let the tiger cub go off and play with Roscoe and his harem of well-trained bitches. Then she began pulling his black T-shirt out of his black jeans.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Getting you naked so I can fuck you until you pass out.”
“Oh. Okay.”
She ran her hands under his T-shirt and Zach closed his eyes, loving the feel of her against him. She pushed his T-shirt up, her tongue licking the still-sore bite she’d given him that morning. She sighed with pure pleasure as her hands slid around his waist and she laid her head against his chest. “I love you, Zach.”
He wrapped his arms around her. “I love you, too, baby.” Then he slapped his hand over the old wound on her thigh.
“Zach!” Laughing, she tried to pull away from him. “Lemme go!”
“Not on your life, Morrighan.” He fell back on the ground, bringing her with him. He rolled on top of her, pinning Sara’s body under his. “I’m never letting you go, you crazy bitch.”
She tried to wiggle away from his hands, but he yanked her back, somehow managing to pull off her sweatpants in the process and rubbing his hand over the old wound on her thigh. He pinned her arms over her head as her body arched under his, her breath coming out in short hard pants. “You evil bastard!”
He nuzzled and nudged her shirt and bra up over her breasts, licking the already hard nipples, his grip tightening on her thigh. “That’s right, baby. Your evil bastard.”
And he’d make sure she never forgot it. Because there was no where else he’d rather be. No one else he’d rather be with or in. Sara Morrighan was it.
For life.
About the Author
To learn more about Shelly Laurenston, please visit www.shellylaurenston.com. Send an email to Shelly at
[email protected] or join her Yahoo! group to join in the fun with other readers as well as Shelly. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/shellylaurenston
Look for these titles by Shelly Laurenston
Now Available:
Pack Challenge
Go Fetch
Distressing Damsel
Coming Soon:
To Challenge a Dragon
Seth Kolski, a werewolf, hides his heritage and passes for normal.
Until he meets Jamie.
The Strength of the Pack
© 2007 Jorrie Spencer
Since his sister disappeared two years ago, Seth's solitude has intensified. Despite his deep need to be part of a pack, he sets himself apart, wary of humans who fear the wolf in him.
When Seth hooks up with his teenaged crush, loneliness and physical desire overcome his distrust. Jamie welcomes his attentions, albeit a little shyly, and Seth rationalizes they can have one night together before they part.
For Seth can never be part of a regular family. No normal woman is going to accept his freakish nature, nor his past violence. Especially a single mother determined to protect her family. However, Seth and Jamie's bond runs deeper than he knows. He cannot return to the shadows. Yet exposure may bring danger to them all.
Book One of the Strength series.
Enjoy the following excerpt for The Strength of the Pack:
The man stood and walked towards her. Two women at a table eyed him with interest and, as he came into focus, Jamie could see why—long legs, rangy build, approaching too thin but not quite there, despite powerful shoulders under the white T-shirt. Lifting her gaze to his face, she reacted with a jolt of recognition. He responded with a crooked, almost embarrassed smile.
His face was…perfect. Beautiful. Her stomach flip-flopped, distracting her from the fact she’d seen those eyes before.
Damn. She looked away. One man orders her a drink and she panics. Coming to this bar had been a bad idea, even if she’d secretly hoped to stare at her beer all evening while pretending she was adventurous. She liked playacting. It was quite safe, but only if you did it right.
Which she hadn’t because the man stood to the left of her, making it impossible to ignore his presence. His eyes startled her. A pale, unworldly blue. Not marring his perfection, but taking away from his cover model looks some. She’d seen this eye color once, years before, in her kid brother’s friend’s face. But the Kolski family had disappeared from Cedartown long ago.
He placed a dark hand on the empty stool beside her.
“May I?” The question was tentative and his voice familiar.
“Seth?” she ventured.
He took that as a yes, and sat. “I wondered if you’d remember me.” Perhaps pleased by her recognition, his entire face transformed, briefly, with warmth and pleasure.
She was flattered. “I remember you.” Always too skinny and pretty as a teenager, poor Seth had not been popular with the boys. Tom had protected him some, when he noticed Seth in trouble, which wasn’t often given Tom’s penchant for living in his own world.
“You’ve changed,” she added. Okay, not great small talk, but something. He had changed. He’d stopped being too pretty, that’s for sure.
“I would hope so. It’s been ten years.”
“You must be all of twenty-four now.”
“Twenty-five. I was a year older than Tom.” His mouth curved ironically. “I missed a year of school during one of my parents’ many moves.” His gaze swept over her in apparent appreciation. “You haven’t changed.”
“Oh, I think I have.” She’d lost the body tone of late adolescence quite a while ago. “But that’s gallant of you.”
“Gallant,
eh? I like that.” Seth the teenager hadn’t been so charming. “But really, Jamie, you look great.”
She would not roll her eyes. Or argue. Biting her tongue, she accepted the compliment and held up her mug. “Thank you for the beer. I’m afraid I’m a slow drinker.”
“Slow is good,” he drawled.
“Hmmm,” she replied less-than-wittily, unsure if that was a double entendre.
Seth might not have been cool when she’d known him, but he was now. White T-shirt, leather pants, well-muscled. She wondered if he was a player. Probably why he was here.
Her idea to pick someone up hadn’t been serious, but rather a thought experiment when she needed out of the house for the evening. Summer had been long this year, with the move and Andreas home day in and day out. Single motherhood was better than a bad marriage, but still a slog at times.
“I didn’t think you lived in Cedartown anymore.” He spoke easily, despite the silence.
“I’ve been in Atlanta.” She’d moved home last month, but didn’t want to get into the whole divorce scenario and explain how living close to her workaholic ex had not provided Andreas with father time, while living in Cedartown gave her son grandparents and an uncle on a regular basis. It all sounded, well, needy. And needy was not what would attract Mr. Cool here.
Not that what attracted Seth mattered.
He looked down at her hand, now empty of rings. Would he care that she was available? She wanted him to care. A realization that had her draining her first mug.
Calm down. This wasn’t about sex, but whether or not she could carry on a conversation with someone outside her family. She didn’t chat with adults these days, unless she was discussing toilet-training, preschools or Pokemon.
Mr. Model-good-looks had no reason to know who Pikachu was.
“Are you back in town for a visit?” He generously ignored her lack of conversational skills.
“It never quite feels like visiting.” Truthful, if evasive. She just couldn’t talk about Derek right now, or the failure of her marriage.
“I’ve lived here a couple of years. I enjoy Ohio.”
“For the wild nightlife,” she suggested.
“I was thinking more about the change of seasons. I missed that in the south.”
“Is that where you went after leaving Cedartown?”
“Yup.”
“Where?”
He shrugged. “We moved around. You could say my parents were nomads.”
She blinked, feeling bad for him. “Were?”
“Still are, no doubt.” He paused, smile gone, face impassive. “I’m not sure where they are now.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” While her parents drove her crazy, she couldn’t imagine not knowing where they were.
“Don’t be. It’s better this way. I have a difficult relationship with my parents.”
“I remember.” Tom, who did not comment on anyone’s personal life, had described Seth’s father as cruel.
“Careful there.” He indicated her second half-drained mug. “You’ve sped up since I arrived.”
“Well, talking makes me nervous.” Geez, what a stupid thing to say. “Unless I’m talking to my five-year-old.”
His eyebrows lifted with interest. “You have a five-year-old? That’s a nice age.”
She assumed this was the stock response of a non-kid-aware guy who wanted to sound positive about children. “Why do you say that?”
“I work with them at an elementary school. I’m a gym teacher.” He sounded defensive.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, pleased, though whether by his occupation or his defensiveness, she wasn’t sure. One of them made him more accessible.
A bizarre connection between a werewolf and a
woman reveals the truth behind a pack’s discarded magic lore.
Half Moon Rising
© 2007 Margo Lukas
Private Investigator CJ Duncan can track a scent better than a bloodhound. Lately, unsettling visions of a wolf prevent her from doing her job. She sets out for Seattle to find her unknown birth father, but her quest leads her instead to a mysterious man who claims to be a werewolf.
Werewolf Trey Nolan has a secret weakness—one which leaves him powerless to protect his pack from a danger threatening to destroy their last shred of humanity. When he discovers a way to reclaim his full powers, he must act—even if it means betraying the woman he loves.
Caught up in Trey’s struggle to save his pack, CJ discovers that her special powers come at a much greater cost than she ever imagined.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Half Moon Rising:
They sat in silence.
She watched him as he was lost in thought. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness of the tree house enough to see the contours of his face. The devilish dimple in his chin. The straight nose. The narrow eyes with their thick eyelashes.
She had seen handsome men before. Even ones with the same dimpled chins and straight noses.
She had past lovers as handsome as Trey. Bodies as perfect. Lovers who left her unsatisfied. Left her wanting more.
Trey wasn’t like them. He made her heart race and her belly heat. His scent was different.
He didn’t smell like other men. Human men.
Was Trey a werewolf?
Even now, stuck in a wood box like a pair of sardines, she wondered what having those long legs wrapped around her would feel like. His large hand on her waist. His long fingers between her legs. Insane or a werewolf…she wanted him.
CJ inwardly cursed herself.
She was on one of the most important surveillance missions of her life. Still, she got lost in Trey’s scent.
She was being an idiot.
After the second elbow to her ribs, CJ wanted him gone. Not only for her body’s comfort, but also for her peace of mind. “Go wait in the Jeep. I can watch for Mario and make sure he leaves by the alley.”
“No, he’d smell you. He’d run again.”
Mario did have her ability. “So this strong sense of smell is a dominant trait in my family. Does my dad have it, too?” She waited for Trey to give her a clue about her old man.
He scrunched his eyebrows and snorted. “Of course he does, they…we all have it. It’s a werewolf thing.”
The werewolves. Again. CJ’s tolerance for his fairytale was at its end.
So he smelled a little off. There had to be a rational reason for his strange scent. CJ had dealt with real monsters. They weren’t werewolves. They were sick, perverted human beings.
She had to call his bluff. See if this story was insanity or his sick sense of humor. “Okay, I’ve decided. You’re really a werewolf? Show me some proof.”
Calling his bluff should make him sweat. She analyzed the smells floating across the night air.
Nothing. No anxiety spike. No salty sweat thread. Just like in the office.
“I told you. You’re not going to catch me lying with your nose.” He actually sounded annoyed with her.
The nerve of him. She wasn’t the one talking nonsense. She glanced past Trey at the night sky. A half moon peeked out in the gray suburban night. “Let me guess, no full moon, right?”
Trey crossed his arms and bored into her with his glowing gold eyes. “Actually, the moon has nothing to do with shape-shifting. If it once meant something to us, we’ve forgotten.”
“Forgotten? Doesn’t seem a proper werewolf thing to do.” She couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice. This stuff just couldn’t be true. He was too damn normal. He had to be pulling some kind of twisted joke on her.
Trey’s tongue came out and licked his full lower lip. He looked out the window, his brows furrowed in thought.
CJ’s heart skipped a beat when he turned his stare on her.
With a surprising speed, his face came down inches away from hers. “As for a proper werewolf thing to do, I could change form for you, but”—Trey paused and spoke the words over her lips—“the space is fairly cramped. Plus, I’d have to get naked fi
rst. I think it’s too early in our relationship for that step, don’t you?”
She stopped listening after the word naked fell from his lips.
CJ couldn’t answer him. She was too overwhelmed by his breath pouring over her face. Her resistance to his smell seeped away in his moist warm essence. She wanted to be in it, touch it, though it had no form. Lick it up and take it into her body. Her womb ached in physical pain from the desire she felt, even if he was a lunatic.
She couldn’t take his scent, but she could take him.
CJ was never coy with men. Since they usually turned out to be disappointments, she had found it better to get her sexual curiosity out of the way.
How could Trey be different? His scent was new, but take that oddity away and he was still just a man. A distraction.
In one awkward movement, she tumbled over him until she straddled his legs, pinning his shoulders to the rough board wall of the tree house. Her breasts pressed flat against his arms crossed in front of his chest.
Trey’s brows arched in surprise, but she gave him no chance to ruin this moment with any more talk of werewolves.
She pressed his lips hard with her own. Digging her fingers around his solid shoulders she ground against his jeans, the rigid zipper rough against her crotch.
Damn. He tasted like he smelled. Musky and spicy. His flavor poured across her tongue and she pushed it between his lips to savor more. He groaned under her assault, opening his lips to her penetration.
Her palms kept him pinned but he uncrossed his arms and grabbed onto her waist. His thumbs dug under her ribcage as he pulled her closer during the kiss.
She let go of his shoulders. Pushed her hands under his jacket across the thin cotton of his Henley. She could feel the heat of him. He was blazing. Heat for her. Heat from her.
He pulled away from her lips. “I want your hair down.” The gravelly tone was low and urgent.