[Like shifters? Come on, I know you do! Faye Avalon's got two sexy shifter hunks for your delectation. Read on! ~ Lisabet]
Blurb
To
protect his pack, he must guard his heart.
Lost
on Bodmin Moor, twelve-year-old Talia Summers was cold, hurt and
terrified, before being saved by a black panther that materialized
out of the night.
Years
later, Talia returns to the moor in search of that magnificent beast,
but instead finds a man leading a clan of shape shifters. Yet the
connection she remembers is strangely absent. She despairs of ever
finding it again—until a stranger steps into her shower.
Back
to claim his rightful place, Caleb McLeod’s fierce attraction to
his half-brother’s female is tempered by the fact she’s a human.
Worse, a journalist. He’ll not have his people’s survival
threatened by a human female who continually pushes the boundaries of
pack rules.
His
solution? Mate with her. Control her. And if his brother doesn’t
like it, they’ll simply have to share. For now.
But
suspicion and lies threaten the growing bond between Talia and Caleb,
and the past has a way of catching up. A way of destroying the bridge
built between two worlds…between two hearts.
Beasts
of Bodmin Moor, Book 1
Product
Warnings
A
red-hot panther shifter with an over-the-top possessive streak, a
human reporter trying desperately to retain her independence, and
enough sexual heat to set fire to the moors of Cornwall.
Buy Links:
Excerpt
Since
she’d deliberately gotten home early, Talia headed straight to the
kitchen to put lasagna in the oven. She intended to make the evening
special, to make up for some of the tension between her and Joshua.
Since
the day was hot, unbearably so, she headed to the shower.
She’d
expected Josh to be home, but wasn’t overly worried. He’d likely
taken himself off to the moor and hadn’t yet gotten her text asking
him to join her.
Thinking
it might bring them closer if he’d shared that part of himself,
Talia had once asked him to shift in front of her, but he’d
steadfastly refused. It was his time, he’d said. Something he
couldn’t share with anyone, even her.
Many
times when she woke in the night he would be gone. On his return,
he’d often wake her and they would make love. Lately, he’d come
home with a restless energy. She’d feel him slide into bed, turn
over and slip into a troubled sleep.
Maybe
it was all part of being a shapeshifter. Something to do with the
phases of the moon.
She
stripped off her work clothes, put the shower on cool, and stepped
beneath the spray. Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the feel of the
water against her skin and let the tension of the day slide off her
shoulders.
Over
the spray of water, she heard the click of the back door. Joshua was
home. She didn’t call out. He’d hear the shower soon enough, and
by the time he reached the bathroom he would have stripped out of his
clothes.
How
was it that all their problems seemed to fall away when they had sex?
Here, they were compatible. Here, they saw eye to eye.
So
why did she still crave something that possibly didn’t even exist?
Unbidden,
her thoughts slipped back to that night she’d gotten lost on the
moor. Why in heaven was she thinking about it so often these days? It
was as if something called to her, made her more aware of her longing
for what she’d experienced back then. Josh had been a young
panther, he’d told her, running solo for the first time. Most of
his kind didn’t experience shifting until they reached puberty, and
they had to run with more experienced members until they learned the
secrets and challenges of the moor.
She’d
been so desperate to learn more, to talk to him about that night and
how much it had meant to her, but he was always circumspect. Probably
because shifters weren’t supposed to talk about their experiences
on the moor, especially not with humans.
Pushing
the thoughts away, she continued to soap herself, anticipating the
moment the bathroom door would open and Joshua would stand there in
all his glory and ready to play. With her free hand, she reached out
and rubbed at the steamy shower screen, giving herself a clear window
through which she would be able to see him. She could hear his
footsteps—weird how attuned she was becoming to sound, scent and
vision. It was almost as if her own senses had sharpened since she’d
mated with a shifter. Perhaps that was a side effect? She’d have to
check it out with Joshua. That was, if he’d be willing to discuss
it.
The
footsteps seemed to wander from room to room, and she speculated as
to what particular game Joshua was playing. Had he thought of yet
another inventive way to string out the anticipation? To make her
wait for him so that she was so hot by the time he reached her that
she’d be desperate to jump him?
She’d
be damned if she’d call out to him, because that was probably one
of his intentions. Instead, she kept her mouth shut and determined to
play whatever game they were in the middle of. She unhooked the
shower attachment, and held it ready at chest level, so that when he
opened the door to the shower cubicle, she’d be in the perfect
position to blast him.
She
bit down on her bottom lip. Denied the warmth of the shower water,
she shivered from both the cool air on her flesh and the thought of
what was to come. Knowing Josh, he’d be pissed when she drenched
him, but a pissed and aroused Joshua was often a joy to behold.
The
footsteps grew louder and seconds later, the slow squeak of the door
signaled his arrival. Since her peephole had steamed up again, she
couldn’t see him, but smiled as the dark shadow approached the
cubicle door. She hummed softly, sashayed a little, so that he’d
think she was unaware of his presence and was simply enjoying her
shower.
The
shadow remained outside the door, perfectly still and strangely
menacing. Something niggled, seeming a little off. Did Josh seem
taller, broader? She mentally nudged it away as a trick of the light,
and possibly her own arousal. But goose-bumps lifted the tiny hairs
on her arms and she gripped the showerhead tighter.
Without
warning, the cubicle door swung open and Talia had the breath knocked
out of her momentarily as the cold snap of air whooshed into the
small space. Narrowing her eyes, she raised the showerhead and let
the spray hit Josh full in the face.
“What
the hell?”
The
deep curse that echoed around the bathroom and the strong hand that
clasped her wrist belonged not to her husband, but some brute of a
man who towered over her while she stood naked and trembling.
“Who…what
do you think you’re d-doing?”
With
his free hand, he wiped his drenched face. “My question exactly,
sweetheart.”
His
deep green eyes glared at her, his grip tightening around her wrist
so that she dropped the showerhead to the floor. In the process, it
sprayed them both with water, soaking his dark gray T-shirt and
jeans. It earned her another dark curse.
She
tried to scream, but nothing came out. So she did the next best
thing. She fought. Kicking, hitting out with her free hand, and
meeting nothing but rock-solid muscle.
“Get
out!” She lashed out once more, tugging furiously at his grip on
her and trying in vain to get free of him. Her breath backed up in
her lungs, all her muscles tight and trembling. “Let go of me!”
He
wiped his face again, the lower part of it sporting dark stubble.
Talia let her gaze skim over him, trying to memorize his features for
when she had to give a description to the police. God. He was built
like a truck. His neck alone would rival the span of her waist, while
his chest rippled and heaved beneath the soaked shirt.
Suddenly
aware of her nakedness, she ceased her perusal. “If you don’t let
go of me, I’ll scream. So help me, I’ll scream loud enough to
wake the dead.”
He
only grinned at that, yet there was little humor in it. Feral,
she thought dazedly. He reminded her of a determined predator…
Bloody
hell. Was he a shifter? A member of a visiting pack? It seemed to
happen pretty frequently, but from what she knew, they didn’t
engage in breaking and entering.
The
thought that this man might be a shifter terrified her. She knew of
their strength, of their power. Of their primal charm and
charisma…which had to explain the sudden resurgence of arousal that
powered through her trembling body.
“Go
ahead and scream. There’s nobody around to hear you.”
He
was right, of course, and she shivered with alarm. Most of their
neighbors were at work, and the house itself was on the edge of the
moor, its strategic position giving the pack’s leader both status
and tactical strength.
She
raised her chin and made herself stare him straight in the eye. “You
don’t scare me.”
Another
feral grin. “Is that so?” He glanced insolently down at her
breasts and the hard, pebbled nipples that rose to attention. “But
it sure looks like I do something to you, sweetheart.”
She
gasped, and he abruptly released his hold on her and stepped back.
Since he was still blocking her exit from the cubicle, Talia couldn’t
reach the towel she’d placed on the railing outside without
brushing her body against him. She crossed one arm to cover her
breasts, then reached down to palm her hand over her center.
When
he glanced to where her hands were purposefully placed, she suffered
the punch of his assessing gaze and felt more naked than ever.
“If
you leave now, I won’t report you,” she stated, thankful that her
voice had regained some of its authority. “Just go.”
In
answer, he raised his arm over his head and grabbed the back of his
sodden shirt. Effortlessly, he shrugged it off and dropped it to the
floor.
Eyeing
his chest, Talia swallowed. She’d thought Joshua’s chest was
ripped, but this man’s was something else. Scars scored the wide
expanse of hard, solid muscle, crisscrossing as if someone had
planned to create a specific pattern there. But they did little to
mar the sheer masculine perfection of his upper body. Down the right
side of his torso, a deeper, angrier-looking scar traveled from his
ribcage to disappear beneath his jeans.
So
lost in her heady examination, she didn’t realize he’d moved
closer to her.
She
jerked back, flattening herself against the cubicle wall. “Don’t
you dare touch me.”
He
spared her a glance. “Just undertaking some damage control. If my
jeans get any wetter, I’ll need to ditch them, then there’ll be
two of us naked in this shower.” He reached around her to turn off
the faucet. “From your overreaction so far, I’m not sure you’d
be too happy about that.”
“My
overreaction?” The absolute nerve of the jerk. “You’ve
barged in here, threatened me—”
“Wasn’t
aware I’d done anything to you.”
She
half expected him to add yet, but he strolled across to the
railing and picked up the towel she’d placed there. He tossed it to
her, making her almost giddy with relief. If he was going to let her
dry herself, surely his intentions weren’t quite as dishonorable as
she’d feared.
She
wrapped the towel tightly around herself, keeping her gaze firmly on
him. He went over to the rack and selected another towel with which
he proceeded to dry himself.
Her
fears shot into orbit again when he positioned himself in front of
the bathroom door, effectively barring her escape the way he had in
the cubicle. Gingerly, she stepped out. If she could at least get
access to the bathroom cabinet, she might be able to select something
to use as a weapon.
“What’s
your name?”
The
question took her by surprise and she jerked her chin toward him. “I
should be asking you that. So I know who to report when I make my
statement to the police.”
Perhaps
in retrospect, she shouldn’t antagonize him, but the nerve of the
man. Breaking into her home, terrorizing her, demanding to know her
name as if she were the intruder.
He
laughed. “And just how many arrests has old Bill Tucker made
recently?”
“You
know him?”
“Since
I was a kid. And if we’re talking arrests, maybe I should be the
one pressing charges.”
“I
don’t know what you mean. Now will you please stand aside and let
me out of this bathroom?”
He
threw the damp towel onto a nearby chair. “You’re not going
anywhere, sweetheart. At least not until you answer my
question.”
Since
he’d planted his feet and crossed his arms over his massive chest,
Talia swallowed down fresh tension. “What…what question?”
“Just
what the hell are you doing in my house?”
About Faye
Faye
Avalon enjoys writing sexy stories about strong men and the savvy
women who rock their world. She has taken a roundabout journey toward
her writing career, working as cabin crew, detouring into property
development, public relations and education, before finally finding
her passion: writing spicy romantic fiction.
Faye
lives with her super-ace husband and one beloved, ridiculously
spoiled dog. They regularly expand their family by boarding puppies
destined to become guide dogs. Between writing, reading, running
around after manic puppies and grabbing some quality time with her
husband, Faye enjoys a challenging yoga session or a night at the
movies.
Links
Twitter:
@faye_avalon
