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Tag: urban fantasy books (Page 11 of 15)

Fire Kissed is now live!

Fire KissedI’m excited to announce that the Fire Kissed anthology is now live on Amazon and FREE to borrow with Kindle Unlimited! This box set contains a lucky thirteen never-before-published novellas by urban-fantasy and paranormal-romance authors…including myself.

My contribution is Incendiary Magic, a short but action-packed prequel to the Dragon Mage universe. Fee is a fire mage with an impossible mission — infiltrate the home base of her dragon overlords and destroy them. You can try out the first chapter here.

But I hope you don’t just buy the box set and skip straight to my story. I haven’t read all of the other contributions yet, but the blurbs alone have me waiting with baited breath to sit down with my kindle this evening and give them a try. There’s a high-stakes poker game, an accidentally kidnapped not-quite-bride, and lots and lots of dragons. Plenty to keep me busy long into the night!

The anthology is only up for three short months, so don’t delay. Grab your copy here and enjoy!

Urban fantasy and paranormal romance book reviews

I realized I hadn’t regaled you with my list of Favorite Recent Reads for a few long months. Time to catch up…starting with the genres you’re likely to enjoy the most — urban fantasy and paranormal romance.

Agent of Enchantment

Agent of Enchantment by C.N. Crawford and Alex Rivers is my most highly recommended title for this period. The blend of unique worldbuilding, London history, and just the right amount of psychobabble turned an already gripping urban fantasy into a major winner. (At the time of this post, this title is in kindle unlimited.)

Where the Wild Things Bite

Where the Wild Things Bite by Molly Harper is a close runnerup. This is a human-meets-vampire romance including ancient books and wilderness survival situations plus a really funny authorial voice that kept me laughing as I turned pages way too quickly.

Rebel Wolf

Rebel Wolf by Amy Green has an extraordinarily hooky beginning — a grad student goes to visit a werewolf in prison, trying to talk him into being her research subject. Highly recommended for fans of T.S. Joyce. (At the time of this post, this title is free.)

Gray Back Ghost Bear

And, speaking of T.S. Joyce, she writes books faster than I can read them (which is saying something!). My favorite of her titles this time around was Gray Back Ghost Bear, which includes the author’s patented feel-good romance with great characters, a real storyline, and this time ghosts! (At the time of this post, this title is in kindle unlimited.)

If you want more book recommendations (along with limited-time sales I tend not to post over here), be sure to sign up for my newsletter. And, in the meantime, maybe you’ll click on the facebook link below and let me know which recent urban fantasy and paranormal romance reads you thoroughly enjoyed?

What to read after Patricia Briggs

Mercy Thompson

Do you love the Mercy Thompson series, about a coyote shifter running with werewolves? Or perhaps you prefer the Alpha & Omega series, which follows an entirely new kind of werewolf — one so low on the totem pole that she calms unruly tempers just by entering the room. Either way, all good things must come to an end, and eventually you run out of the gateway drug. What comes next?

I asked a bunch of readers, and here were the most common replies:

Kelley Armstrong’s Otherworld series is arguably the most like the Mercy Thompson series in overall feel. If anything, the former series feels a hair derivative of the latter…but who am I to complain when I love Mercy Thompson so much that I let my heroine read Briggs’ newest novel in the beginning of my first werewolf book?

Ilona Andrews’ Kate Daniels series is probably a close second on the similarity scale, adding in more action and worldbuilding but lowering the romance quotient a bit. Or maybe I just don’t have as much chemistry with Curran as I do with Adam? Either way, I highly recommend giving this series an extensive try.

Faith Hunter’s Jane Yellowrock series begins branching out into classic urban fantasy that is less closely related to Patricia Briggs’ works in ways other than genre. However, the Native American element (which is strong in certain Mercy Thompson books) is also present here, providing an extra link between the two series.

Eileen Wilks’ World of the Lupi has less of an urban-fantasy feel, at least in the first book which veers strongly toward the whodunit. But there’s enough shifter action and culture so that I suspect the series will float many Briggs’ fans’ boat despite veering off in a totally different direction. (Different can be good, right?)

Shannon Meyer’s Rylee Adamson series is also a crowd pleaser, with a werewolf pet and plenty of other magical beings plus a healthy quotient of action and mystery.

Hailey Edwards Gemini series is another werewolf-packed urban-fantasy saga (although this one is indie published and will be harder to find at your local library).

My own Wolf Rampant and Alpha Underground series were intended to scratch a similar itch as well — I ran out of the type of werewolf books I wanted to read and decided to write my own. As a bonus, you can try the first book in each trilogy for free in my Shifter Origins box set.

If you’re still in search of urban fantasy after all that, this Goodreads list is full of up-to-the-moment information. Happy reading!

 

Cerulean Magic is live!

Cerulean Magic

Cerulean Magic is now live on Amazon! This second novel in the Dragon Mage series follows a minor character from book 1 (Sabrina Fairweather) and is designed to be entirely understandable as a standalone. Here’s what early readers have to say about it:

This book has it all. Bad guys, good guys, people you can love and people you can hate. Action, adventure, and love. — VaWineLover

Does NOT disappoint! — Robin

Dragons, Magic and Adventure…who could ask for more??? — Sara F

Full of excitement and adventure — LHill

Sabrina turned out to be a very secretive, twisty character, so her book soon took on the same characteristics. As a result, I had to do more rewriting than usual, but I hope the final product will keep you on the edge of your seat. Enjoy!

Wolf Landing: Chapter 2, Scene 2

Get caught up on Chapter Two before you finish it…

Wolf Landing was never quiet. But from the moment I stepped out of Robert’s government-issued SUV and waved farewell, two-leggers and four-leggers alike had whirled around me like a cyclone. And there, located at the very center of the storm, stood my mate.

Hunter was glorious as he shifted back and forth between lupine and human shapes with wild abandon, sometimes remembering to pull on a pair of jeans when two-legged and sometimes just showing off his chiseled muscles to all and sundry. Sure, when our paths crossed and his frosty fingers slipped beneath my sweater to caress bare skin, the digits resembled mini-icicles running up and over my hip. But the view alone was well worth a few shivers.

“You know, we can smell it when you’re getting all lustful,” Ginger complained, sneaking up behind me and slipping a party hat onto my head before I managed to dodge away from the colorful cardboard. The elastic snapped a little too forcefully beneath my chin and I playfully flicked my companion’s cheek by way of retaliation.

“If you’re jealous, you can always call your own girlfriend,” I countered, gazing fondly at the young woman who had been one of my initial pack mates way back when our clan was only five members strong and easily fit within the steel confines of my battered station wagon. Her usually sunny temperament had been missing in action for the last week, though, and I had a feeling I knew the reason why. “We’d all like to meet her,” I added.

Evasively, Ginger turned her head aside, and I sighed as her pain bit into my own belly. Both of us knew the twin was afraid of getting too attached to a one-body when our territorial rights—and ability to protect surrounding humans—were still up for grabs. After all, the letter that had come in the day’s mail only granted us probationary pack status. We still needed to attend the regional gathering and win the votes of the majority of the nearby pack leaders before we deemed the property our own from a werewolf point of view.

Since I couldn’t yet fix the underlying issue, I caved to my friend’s doleful body language and changed the subject instead. “Are you going to toss the caber for your team?”

“Hell yeah!” the twin answered, sounding much more like her usual self as she eyed the competition unfolding before us. Unlike me, Ginger saw no reason not to mingle with the big dogs, testing her prowess at each contest of might and agility that Hunter’s far-too-fertile imagination had managed to dream up. I, on the other hand, preferred to stay on the outskirts where my problematic wolf would go unnoticed by the shifters I happened to lead.

But my friend was as adamant and enthusiastic as ever. Slipping her elbow through mine, she dragged me closer to the center of activity before relinquishing her hold as abruptly as she’d first grabbed on. The caber toss was about to begin and apparently my companion’s concern about my wallflower ways paled in comparison with her interest in winning.

Stolen straight out of Scottish legend, the caber was a slender but tall tulip-tree trunk that Lia and Glen had dragged down off the mountainside that very afternoon. The goal was quite a bit trickier, though, than the simple equipment suggested. The winning contestant needed to be able to pick up the massive length of wood by the narrow end, carry it forward several paces in his arms, then flip the trunk end over end until it landed directly in front of him in the twelve-o’clock position.

Cinnamon, it appeared, wasn’t quite up to the task. Despite his lanky build, Ginger’s brother had no problem hefting the caber vertically off the ground. Carrying it forward without whacking the bystanders arrayed across the lawn? That proved to be a significantly more difficult feat.

Plus, gravity wasn’t the only force of nature the redhead had to contend with. “Hey!” Cinnamon complained as a bloodling from the opposing team slipped between his legs, attempting to trip him up.

Oh, did I forget to mention that, to werewolves, even the caber toss was a full-contact sport? Yeah, we weren’t really keen on rules at the best of times. And the twenty wolf-form adolescents making up the bulk of the current audience were growing weary of waiting for the next contest suitable for four paws.

“You lose,” Ginger said gaily as she shoved her brother aside to take his place at the starting line. “Gimme the tree!”

Despite my friend’s enthusiasm, though, I couldn’t help descending back into the brown study Ginger had so recently pulled me out of. The trouble was, I had a sinking suspicion we’d made the wrong decision in claiming the entirety of Arborville and the surrounding countryside as our proposed territory on the application form.

What if rather than winning the safety we all hankered after, our optimistic reach instead prompted other alphas to come sniffing around in such a manner they noticed our rule-breaking ways? What if Hunter’s powerful ex-mentor decided to wreak his vengeance by following the letter of the law and putting packless one-bodies aware of shifter existence—one-bodies like Ginger’s girlfriend and my mother—to death?

Still, I couldn’t mull over possible future disaster scenarios for long. Because a shirtless Hunter was hefting the discarded trunk onto one broad shoulder and approaching Ginger at a lope, making the dead weight of the eight-foot-long pole appear negligible. He nearly vibrated with virility, so I wasn’t surprised to notice that every nearby female, including those in lupine form, focused their complete attention upon his rippling abdominal muscles and narrow waist.

Hunter, however, ignored the larger audience. Instead, his gaze flew directly to mine…then he winked.

For a moment, the knot in my belly eased. And I smiled as Ginger bit her lip and blew on her hands in preparation for following in her brother’s footsteps. The other team had no idea what was about to hit them.

Four bloodlings closed ranks around my teammate, ensuring that no wily opponent could sneak past and throw Ginger off her game. Meanwhile, outside their circle, the larger pack was divided—half hoping Ginger would win the prize on their behalf while the other contingent was betting against the young female’s skill and strength. For my part, I just hoped no one got brained in the process.

So I held my breath as my friend slowly eased the caber upward and watched as she proved that anything she lacked in brawn she easily made up for in fortitude. Soon, the pole towered above all of our heads like a flagpole. Then, seemingly effortlessly, the trouble twin broke into a smooth lope.

Before my friend made her throw, though, Hunter’s chilled hands were pulling me back against his warm body. My mate’s breath teased through my mussed hair, then his broad palms began pushing circles of looseness into knotted muscles. Formerly cold flesh warmed by the minute as the uber-alpha’s inner furnace forced me to forget my worries and relax into his embrace.

“We’ll win,” Hunter whispered, his words barely audible above the cacophony of the crowd. “We always do.”

As if the uber-alpha was speaking directly to her, Ginger slid to a halt at the chalked line and tossed the log deftly forward. As the entire clan looked on with riveted attention, the heavy end of the tulip-tree trunk dipped down at the last moment so the caber struck the ground, sprang upwards, then finally thudded back earthward in the perfect orientation to win her team another twenty points.

And even though our pack was ostensibly divided into two warring factions, the howls of triumph and celebration that rose toward the clear blue sky were now universal. Wolf-form bloodlings frolicked with joy while two-leggers pumped triumphant fists into the air.

“You’re right,” I admitted, no longer certain whether I was speaking to my mate or just to myself. Because Hunter’s point was well made. Our clan was united, so how could we lose? “Together, we’ll find a way to protect our pack.”

Thanks for reading these free chapters! You can download Wolf Landing today or get the entire Alpha Underground Trilogy.

Wolf Landing: Chapter 2, Scene 1

Finished Chapter One and want to keep reading? By all means…

Chapter 2 Scene 1

“Do you want to talk about it?” Robert asked after we’d driven most of the way back to Wolf Landing without speaking. “Perhaps I shouldn’t pry,” he added. “But you haven’t complained once about my choice of music. Either you’ve become an appreciator of the Southern twang at long last or you have something seriously weighty on your mind.”

Despite my best intentions to brush his concern aside, I couldn’t help smiling at the human’s astute observations. Trust Robert to pick up on my internal struggle after only a few hours in my company when I’d managed to hide my lupine issues from every single member of my pack…including my mate…for weeks on end.

“It’s no big deal,” I said, then gave up on my attempt at minimizing worry. “Well, I guess it is a big deal, to me at least. My wolf is getting too big for her britches and she keeps trying to force me to do things I don’t want to do.”

Robert’s eyebrows twitched in response, but he didn’t pull over and push me from the car the way I thought he might have done. And when I sniffed at the air, I noted that there wasn’t even a hint of alarm in his scent.

Instead, my partner merely let the quiet rumble of the road roll between us for a moment before prodding gently. “What sort of things?” he prompted.

“Things like shifting in public. Things like going off to hunt butterflies when we have important pack duties to attend to.”

Things like gnawing on a corpse’s bloody arm…but I didn’t think that final failing was particularly helpful to mention in mixed company. Or, well, in any kind of company for that matter.

“And that’s unusual?” Robert asked. “I mean, I thought your wolf and human sides were allies, two minds sharing the same body. Surely sometimes even the best partners disagree?”

I expected my wolf to offer her own answer to Robert’s question. After all, she didn’t think we shared the same body. She thought our animal half possessed a perfectly functional body of its own, thank you very much, and one we should have spent quite a bit more time inhabiting.

But my inner animal’s hyperactivity earlier in the day must have worn her down because she remained resolutely silent. In fact, when I squeezed my eyes shut in an effort to focus on our shared inner space, I couldn’t even find my lupine partner at first glance. Only after I dug deep into our communal consciousness did I finally discover my previously unruly wolf curled up into a ball, a vague whisper of a whine emanating from her muzzle with each exhale.

Are you okay? I asked, nudging at the wolf’s comatose form the way a child might poke at the hole where a baby tooth had recently been located.

Sleepy, my animal half responded after a long moment.

Well, that was a relief. Her tone was sluggish, but at least she was no longer begging to transform at all the wrong moments. Maybe our partnership was looking up after all.

And then Robert’s voice brought me out of my worries with an abrupt change of subject. “Whose birthday is it?” he asked, an amused smile flickering across his usually solemn face.

By this point, we were winding along the gravel drive that separated the gated entrance of our new pack lands from the various buildings located therein. And when I gazed out at the view, I broke into a grin ten times wider than the one my companion currently sported.

Because Wolf Landing’s driveway was lined with paper streamers and helium balloons, a huge banner above the doorway of the community building lending a festive air even though I couldn’t read the words from our current vantage point. Meanwhile, the entire clan had assembled on the front lawn, a motley assortment of wolves and two-leggers united by the broad smiles stretching across all of their faces.

“It’s nobody’s birthday,” I answered, my wolf’s disobedience earlier in the day abruptly forgotten. “Except for Wolf Landing’s. It looks like our request to be granted probationary pack status went through without a hitch.”

Read the rest of Chapter Two of Wolf Landing

Wolf Landing: Sneak Peek

Wolf Landing

Want a glimpse inside the final book in the Alpha Underground series? Here’s Chapter One to tantalize those taste buds (but please excuse any typos — the final draft is still in the hands of the copy editor):

Chapter 1

Ten days until All-Pack. Ten days until a counsel of my peers would claim the right to decide whether my found family was fit to exist and whether I was fit to lead said pack. Ten days until I’d either win big, or everything I’d worked so hard to create would be ripped out of my grasp forever.

Ten days until All-Pack…and my wolf was still acting like a spoiled child. Fur form now, she demanded.

I stretched my neck from side to side until it popped then inhaled a deep breath through my nose in an attempt to refrain from strangling my weaker half. Too bad my wolf was only virtually present within my skin at the present moment and not available for manual asphyxiation. Time for a little bout of channeling my previous alpha.

What would Wolfie do? I pondered. Well, that was an easy one—Wolfie would be patient. So I strove to keep my temper in check as I reined in my inner beast. No, I informed her. We can’t shift now. Don’t you see the humans standing all around us?

“Sense something, Fen?” my investigative partner asked, drawing me out of my silent conversation. For a human, Robert was awfully adept at picking up on the subtleties of body language. So I wasn’t entirely surprised that he’d noticed signs of my inner battle…despite both his feet and his face currently pointing in the opposite direction.

When I didn’t reply immediately, Robert once again proved his mettle. Rather than prodding me verbally, he simply continued scanning the crowd that had gathered beyond the expanse of yellow caution tape, hunting for the first hint of odd behavior signaling a perp returning to the scene of the crime.

Well, if my partner was going to do his job, then I might as well do mine too. Want to help me out here? I asked silently, expecting my inner animal to dive right in and increase my sensory capabilities the way she so often had in the past. Together, we’d never before had a problem determining whether murders were werewolf-related or just a grisly example of what humans did to each other without the benefit of fangs and claws.

But instead of obeying, my unruly wolf only lengthened the hairs on the backs of my arms, scrabbling at the inside of my spine as she attempted to force her way free. It was a good thing she was such a puny beast or we might have given those paranormal-activity websites something more fact-based to report on.

“Just a sec,” I said aloud, not wanting Robert to think I was ignoring him even though my wolf was refusing to pull her own weight this afternoon. I struggled for another moment, then shrugged off my inner animal’s perversity and opened my human-only senses to the air.

Luckily, I was able to smell, see, and hear better than the average one-body even without my wolf’s assistance. In fact, as soon as I focused on the blanket-covered corpse fifteen feet away, the charnel-house aroma became so intense it nearly overwhelmed me. I might as well have been standing directly on top of the body for all the barrier there was between the death scent and my churning stomach.

My immediate impulse was to cringe away from the aroma of fresh blood and meat, but my wolf bade me to lean forward instead. Savory, she suggested, licking her chops.

Lupine interest coursed through my body, straightening my spine and setting my feet into motion without conscious human consent. The pavement surrounding the corpse was bloody, a sign that another predator had been there before us. Together, my wolf and I growled our complaint at the territorial invasion as we arrowed toward our goal.

“Hey!” a policewoman exclaimed as I brushed past, my shoulder knocking into hers in my haste. With my wolf in the lead, I hadn’t even noticed another two-legger in my path until she grabbed my forearm to prevent me from continuing along my present trajectory. “Who are you?” the woman demanded.

Abruptly, my wolf subsided, slipping back down along the inside of my throat until she could rest nose to paw at the bottom of my tummy. I wanted to roll my eyes at the sudden desertion, but the woman in front of me already appeared royally pissed off. No need to annoy her further by donning facial expressions I couldn’t easily explain away.

“I’m…” I started, but the officer was uninterested in further explanations. Instead of waiting to hear an answer, she began dragging me away from the body I’d come to examine. My subtle attempts to wrest myself from her grip didn’t hinder her one bit.

Glancing back over one shoulder in search of assistance, I noticed that Robert had wandered off in the opposite direction and had already been pulled into conversation with a crime-scene tech. Great. Just what I needed—for my inner wolf to start riling up bystanders’ danger sensors with her uncharacteristically rampant behavior right when my get-out-of-jail-free card was busy elsewhere.

Because, as much as it currently cramped my style, I wasn’t entirely surprised by the policewoman’s reaction. After all, my uber-alpha mate often received the evil eye from unsuspecting humans who had no clue he was a shifter but who still sensed the extra-strong wolf simmering beneath his skin. In contrast, the inner animal of a half werewolf was generally so quiescent that she didn’t tweak anyone’s risk radar.

Not so today. As I attempted to catch Robert’s attention without antagonizing my captor further, I realized that everyone else had gravitated toward the coffee station at the far end of the roped-off area. They probably thought they’d all fallen prey to a simultaneous need to warm up frozen toes. But as the woman before me paused long enough to search my face with narrowed eyes, I had a feeling her co-workers were instead obeying their lizard brains’ impulses to flee both far and fast from a predator like myself.

Meanwhile, the bold policewoman in front of me was likely making a mental note to write me down in her files under “person of interest.” Not exactly the method of flying-beneath-the-radar I strove for when operating in one-body territory.

I opened my mouth to try reasoning with the officer, but quick bootsteps stilled me before I’d really begun. At last, rescue was on its way.

Robert stepped between us smoothly, his wallet already flipping open to reveal his ever-present ID. “We’re with the FBI, ma’am,” he said calmly, offering that same aw-shucks grin that had snookered me into thinking him harmless when we first met. My partner was entirely human…but he was far from harmless. “We won’t get in your way,” he continued. “But since we were passing through, I figured we should drop by and check on the scene.”

“There’s no reason for this case to fall under the federal jurisdiction,” our companion replied, vertical lines appearing between narrowed eyes as she released me in order to pluck the wallet out of Robert’s extended hand. “But we’re always willing to receive feedback from experienced operatives. You won’t mind me calling in to check on you, of course.”

It wasn’t a question. She was already dialing her cell phone when Robert agreed with an easy, “Of course.”

Despite his laid-back tone and manner, though, my partner took advantage of the woman’s lapse of attention to jerk his chin in the direction of the corpse. His credentials would stand up under any kind of scrutiny, but my own consultant status was only kinda-sorta on the books.

Luckily, I usually required mere moments to complete my analysis. I reached the site of the murder in a few quick strides then knelt on the ground just beyond the puddle of congealed blood. Killed on this spot, I thought absently as I brought my nose down closer to the corpse and sniffed.

And, finally, my wolf relinquished her snit and deigned to offer a helping hand. Or, rather, a helping nose. Together, we inhaled the nearly overwhelming tang of iron-rich blood mingling with the subtler aroma of the human who had covered the victim to protect the dead from the prying eyes.

Same soap, my wolf offered, noticing before I did that the policewoman currently conversing with my partner had been the one to shake out the sheet.

Relaxing into our partnership at long last, I allowed the wolf to point out a secondary minty aroma that likely matched up with the teary-eyed woman currently huddled at the far corner of the enclosed area. Robert had clued me in to the details during the two-hour car ride, so I knew the female candy-shop owner had come to open her store that morning…and stumbled across a horrifying crime scene by mistake. No wonder I could still smell the civilian’s terror-stricken emotion hovering in the air above my head even hours later.

My wolf’s nose definitely made the evidence easier to sort out, but we still hadn’t managed to answer Robert’s question. Was the murderer man or beast? So, ignoring the nightmares I’d likely summon as a result of my actions, I gingerly plucked at a corner of the sheet in an attempt to look underneath.

Immediately, my gorge rose up in my throat and I covered my mouth with one hand to keep lunch in my stomach where it belonged. The victim was unidentifiable, post-death knife wounds tearing his face up into a sea of exposed flesh. Only the thoroughly masculine clothing clued me in to his gender.

I wanted to not only look away but also to walk in the opposite direction as far and as fast as I was able. But my wolf took advantage of my lapse to seize control of our shared body, extending our arm until we were nearly touching the mass of bloody meat. Hungry, she offered.

Shit! Yanking my hand back and clutching it underneath the opposite elbow by way of restraint, I slapped my disappointment like a rolled-up newspaper against the wolf’s nose. Arguing with me was one thing. Trying to eat a human corpse was something else entirely.

It’s getting worse, I admitted to myself. I hadn’t told anyone how my attempts at nurturing a little independence in my previously weak wolf appeared to be backfiring. Instead, I’d hugged the worries close to my chest and kept my own counsel.

But now, as my gut roiled even worse than it had at the initial sign of the mangled body, I had to admit that I’d dug myself into a hole so deep I didn’t even know which direction to turn in my attempt to claw free.

Because, sure, I could chain up the wolf deep inside myself the way I used to, leaving my human brain in sole command of our shared body. But my new life required the beast’s frequent assistance, not just here on this crime scene but also within our four-month-old pack. I was trying to act as co-alpha of a cobbled-together band of traumatized bloodlings and young-adult werewolves, a process that required leading with my wolf in addition to my human brain.

I’ll deal with all that later, I promised myself. For now, I needed a lupine nose if I hoped to finish assessing the crime scene before Lady Cop asked for my driver’s license then tossed me out on my ear. So, ignoring the incipient headache forming at my temples, I instead firmly bade the wolf to: Focus. Meekly, she obeyed.

Together, we inhaled, letting fragrant air stream across the sensitive skin that formed our mouth’s upper palate. The bloody aroma was much worse now that we were located mere inches away from the corpse and I could almost taste the salty reek of urine mixed up in the last vestiges of quickly dissipating terror. Not exactly what I’d hoped to put in my mouth.

But there was no sign of wolf beyond my own. No undertone of fur and wildness that all shifters carried around even in our two-legged form.

So I stood and shook my head silently at Robert. No, I signaled, the smart policewoman was seeking a monster…but not the kind of monster I denned with on a daily basis.

And my partner understood instantly. Making his excuses, Robert veered away from the still suspicious law-enforcement officer and strode over to join me just inside the closest barrier. Then, wordlessly, we slipped beneath the caution tape and headed back to his waiting SUV.

Ready to keep reading? Head over to Chapter Two or purchase Wolf Landing, now available on all retailers.

Dark Wolf Adrift Chapter 2 Excerpt

Be sure to read the beginning before continuing on…

Chapter 2

The bitter taste created by my own actions sat heavy on my tongue. But half a dozen beers plus a double dose of Stooge’s antics finally did away with both my regrets and the pain in my gut.

“How about that window?” my wingman asked, gesturing with his beer bottle toward an aperture twenty feet above our heads. The bar we’d selected for our evening’s entertainment had begun its life as a four-story row house and the owners chose to gut the interior and create one huge open space complete with internal balconies rather than renovating all four floors. The neck-risking opportunities for thrill junkies were endless.

No wonder this was our favorite spot to relax after a long day’s work.

“You’re going to get us all thrown out,” I complained. Then I tacked on the clincher: “Again.”

“Aw, don’t be such a spoilsport,” Ian countered. “That just happened the one time when tall, scary dude was manning the bar. Cute, perky girl over there likes me. She wouldn’t evict us for a little extracurricular climbing.”

Our youngest team member waved, and sure enough the bartender in question fluttered her fingers by way of reply. Someone was getting lucky tonight.

Ian was probably right about the lady bartender’s willingness to look the other way too. Still, I kept my wallet firmly rooted in my pocket while twenties rained down onto the table as a reward for the victor. “I’ll stay here and judge the race,” I offered by way of explanation when Stooge paused and glanced back in my direction.

My wingman’s brow furrowed as he assessed the state of my mind. Unlike my other team mates, Stooge knew that my second tour of duty was nearly complete and that I was mulling over the idea of throwing my hat back into the civilian arena. Not that I minded my job as an Explosive Ordnance Disposal tech. I’d just gotten a little bit too good at defusing bombs and had started wondering whether there was more to life than going through the motions every day.

On the other hand, stumbling across an outpack shifter just hours earlier had reminded me why I’d joined the Navy in the first place. Military life might have lost a bit of its luster, but at least I didn’t have to worry about whether or not I could keep my inner beast in check while on the human-only base.

In other words, I was far too deeply engrossed in mental gymnastics to take proper care of my physical body, which is why I chose to remain glued to my seat rather than joining my numbskull companions in a pointless game of one-up-manship. Waving Stooge back to the challenge at hand, I added a healthy dose of forced enthusiasm into my voice as I counted down for the six remaining participants. “Three, two, one…go!

Five men swarmed up the wall like a herd of monkeys, but Trevor chose a different approach. Taking the stairs two at a time, he dashed for the nearest balcony, then clambered over the railing so he could work his way horizontally toward the target.

Smart move.

Before I could get a handle on who was likely to be the final victor, though, a heavy hand fell onto my shoulder. And when I swiveled with a polite smile on my lips, a seemingly harmless older gentleman met my gaze. “May I help you?” I asked.

I hadn’t bothered to wake my wolf and sniff at the air when faced with what appeared to be a middle-aged businessman out for drinks with work colleagues. But once the older male’s teeth sharpened ever so slightly and a spark of territoriality came into his eyes, I inhaled deeply then wrinkled up my nose in distaste.

Yep, this was yet another werewolf nosing around my butt.

Sighing, I rose to my feet while carefully placing my beer bottle on the table behind me. I’d want the refreshment when I was done, if only to soothe the resulting case of self-loathing. Because I knew what was coming next—yet another shifter dominance battle.

Words this time, I resolved. But the older werewolf didn’t even give me the chance to get my mouth open. Instead, he speared me with an alpha glare much like the ones I’d withstood from every other male shifter I’d ever come in contact with.

Annoying but not unexpected.

After all, stare-downs had become a regular fact of life ever since I entered werewolf society as a young teenager. And I had to admit (albeit grumpily) that the dominance contests made a certain sort of grim sense. Establishing relative ranks based on willpower instead of on teeth and claws meant that the weaker wolf only slunk away with a virtual black eye rather than with a real one.

Still, the inevitable staring contests were annoying because I always won. Couldn’t the males around me learn to take a hint?

My current opponent was no exception to the insta-challenge rule, but it soon became evident that he was pretty powerful. Out of the corner of one eye, I caught movement as a pair of lackeys I hadn’t even realized existed shuddered in the face of the mere overflow of energy originally intended to cow their chief’s opponent. In fact, I think I saw the youngest one lose control over his knees for a split second before the male peered pointedly in the opposite direction and found the strength to remain erect.

I, on the other hand, was bored stiff by the dominance display. And since matching my opponent’s aggression only required about a quarter of my brain power, I was able to expend the rest of my computing energy assessing the older male the way I really should have the moment he entered the room.

My enemy was obviously a pack leader, merely passing through the city that I called home. He was well-dressed and apparently cultured, and I had a sneaking suspicion that the two henchmen flanking his broad form were the least of the entourage waiting on his beck and call. No wonder he’d figured a stare-down with a younger wolf would be an easy battle to win without breaking a sweat.

Unfortunately for my opponent, he was long past the sweating stage and fast approaching the time of whimpering for mercy. And as I took in the aromas emanating from the weaker shifters hovering behind his back, I realized that their leader’s bad judgment was going to have serious repercussions.

Because while a lone wolf might submit to a stronger alpha with impunity, my win over an established clan head would likely set the male before me up for a long line of challenges from within his ranks. Meanwhile, the younger of the two bodyguards boasted the same square jaw and sandy hair as his boss. A son being shown the ropes of alpha asshole-dom? That plan would definitely backfire if our current contest continued to its inevitable conclusion.

Well, old guy’s in luck because I have better things to do with my time than to beat up on a shifter who’s already crested the hill of middle age and is now rolling relentlessly down the other side.

So instead of crushing my opponent beneath my metaphorical boot heel, I held the other alpha’s gaze just long enough to ensure he wouldn’t attempt to come after me in a dim alley later in the evening. Then I rolled my eyes and turned aside.

I expected my new companion to flee once released from my scowl just like every other shifter I’d ever traded stares with. But, instead, his hand landed on my shoulder yet again as I sank down into the hard metal chair, back exposed to an enemy who I deemed too unimportant to monitor as he walked away.

***

What happens next between the challenger and our uber-alpha? Finish Chapter Two by downloading Dark Wolf Adrift today. I hope you enjoyed this sneak peek. Thanks for reading!

Dark Wolf Adrift Chapter 1

Dark Wolf AdriftI am excited to have Dark Wolf Adrift live and thought you might like to read the first chapter of this prequel novella (which can also be understood as a standalone). Enjoy!

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Chapter 1

I’m a monster.

Not because I can shift back and forth between human and wolf skins at will. Although that part’s true.

And not because I served eight years as Special Ops in the U.S. military. Although that part’s true as well.

My monstrosity doesn’t stem from the fact that I stood taller than the other guys I walked beside, broader across the shoulders due to a childhood spent as a bloodling in lupine form rather than as a fur-less one-body.

No, it wasn’t pure physical brawn that pushed me over the edge. Being a monster is all about state of mind. And when I caught a whiff of strange werewolf within my usual stomping grounds, my thoughts were monstrous indeed.

A headless intruder, flicker, sweet blood pulsing out of the male’s neck and down my throat, flicker, crimson-tinted teeth parting as I howled my displeasure at the moon.

“Did you just growl?” asked my human partner.

I couldn’t be bothered to spare a glance for Stooge or for my other EOD crew mates, all of whom were off duty just like me and enjoying an evening out on the town. Instead, my eyes remained fixed upon the shifter who faced me from the other end of the city block.

Around us, the usual post-work-day traffic flowed, full of city dwellers blithely oblivious to the dangers that stalked through their midst. A child laughed in the distance, a radio flicked on from a second-story apartment, car horns trilled down the street. But my fellow werewolf and I remained locked in a silent battle of wills.

I shook my head to clear it of my own pent-up alpha aggressions. Our territory, my inner animal complained. But by shifter law, I didn’t actually own the streets I walked upon. This city was outpack land, free for all.

Or was that a free-for-all? I bared my teeth, hoping the other male would take the hint and back down before I was forced to track the intruder to his lair and rend him limb from limb. If he accepted my greater dominance and walked away now, I was willing to be the bigger wolf and let him escape with both of our egos—and skins—intact.

“Hunter?” one of my human companions nudged me verbally. “Is something the matter?”

“An old friend.” I forced the words out between curled lips, stalking toward the stranger who was pacing forward just as rapidly to meet me.

To a human or to a run-of-the-mill shifter, my opponent would have appeared to be a tall but otherwise average redhead, smiling cordially as he approached. But my bloodling nature instead picked out the inner wolf hidden beneath his furless skin.

The beast’s ruff was raised aggressively and its teeth were exposed in a near-audible snarl. No, my enemy hadn’t taken the hint. Instead, his monstrous half was wide awake and ready to pounce.

I walked faster, trying to distance myself from my friends. Because while they were burly and well-trained by human standards, the guys were no match for an unfriendly werewolf. So I didn’t glance backwards as I ordered the other members of my crew to: “Wait here.”

Six humans and I had all left the base together an hour earlier. Of those, five now took me at my word, pausing so I could pull ahead and leave them behind and out of harm’s way.

My wingman, though, wasn’t to be deterred so easily.

Paul was more frequently referred to as Stooge due to his tendency to turn every occasion into a circus act. But he was adept at picking up on subtle cues of posture and tone, so he didn’t join our mutual buddies on the corner. Instead, he scurried to stay abreast of me as I barreled toward the other shifter. “Are you in trouble?” my friend demanded.

My opponent was only twenty feet distant by this point, his eyes nearly glowing with unbridled hostility and rage. His lips spread into a wide smirk of preemptive triumph and I could feel the wolf beneath his skin itching to break free and take matters into its own paws.

Yep, the dunce really was planning to launch into a knock down, drag out battle in lupine form right here in the middle of a human neighborhood.

“Not now, Paul,” I said, using my friend’s given name in an effort to dissuade him from continuing to dog my heels. It was going to be hard enough to rid myself of this shifter without cluing in the general neighborhood to our furry natures. And since the law against letting our secret slip to humankind was more of a death sentence for the human in question than a taboo for the werewolf, I couldn’t risk meeting my opponent beneath Stooge’s eagle eye.

“Could you give us a little space,” I continued. “Please.”

Darned question marks. I kept forgetting to add them to my auditory repertoire.

The thinly veiled command did the trick, though. “We’ll be right over here,” Stooge acceded, clapping me on the back before retreating to join the rest of our friends halfway down the block.

I could feel the team hovering, eyes boring into my shoulder blades. But the majority of my attention remained focused on the danger in front of my face. The danger who could so easily shake up the status quo by shifting here on a city street full of innocents.

A city street full of innocents who I was duty bound to serve and to protect.

A family might come around the nearest corner at any moment. Or perhaps Stooge’s patience would wear thin first. Either way, I knew I lacked the time and space for finesse.

So I simply blasted my opponent with such extreme alpha dominance that I could smell the reek of urine as he wet himself. “Get out of my city and don’t come back,” I commanded.

My words were the equivalent of snapping on handcuffs and stuffing a jaywalker into the back of a cop car—high-handed, arrogant, and impossible to argue with. It was overkill, I knew. I hadn’t even asked for the male’s name, hadn’t tried to sit him down and reason with him, hadn’t mentioned the fact that I currently spent 99% of my time on the human-only base and could easily share this city with one outpack drifter as long as he kept his nose clean.

But I’d done all of that and more in the past. The trouble was, my uber-alpha status made me a magnet for weaker wolves trying to get a leg up in the shifter hierarchy, meaning I’d already fielded dozens of out-of-the-blue dominance displays during my not-so-extensive span of adult life. And in the end, it always came down to one simple question—whose wolf was the biggest asshole?

The answer? Mine.

Today, like every other day, alpha assholery worked like a charm. The air around us chilled as the other shifter’s inner beast shrank down, becoming nearly invisible within his human form. His eyes skittered to the side and sweat broke out on his brow as he tried…and failed…to avoid my inescapable compulsion.

We could have stood there all day, the red-headed shifter giving himself a hernia while I relaxed into my intended role in werewolf society. But, instead, I glanced aside at last and released him from my spell.

Immediately, the once-belligerent shifter turned on his heel and ran like the fires of hell were on his tail. Yes, he ran like a bully who had learned the hard way that bigger bullies existed, or perhaps like a six-year-old kid who’d just discovered that the monster under his bed was very much real.

And as the monster in question, who was I to say he was wrong?

Want just a little more of Dark Wolf Adrift before purchasing the entire novella? Read the beginning of Chapter Two

Dark Wolf Adrift is live!

Dark Wolf Adrift

Dark Wolf Adrift is the tale of an uber-alpha shifter whose inner beast threatens to rip away his last shred of humanity. Here’s what the early reviewers had to say:

A well-written and fast-paced story — PenKay

Brilliant characters whose layers are revealed, tantalisingly, in each story. — MelR

The novella is a prequel to the Alpha Underground series but can be read as a standalone. Just skip the last couple of pages if you don’t want to be teased about what’s to come in Hunter’s future.

Sound interesting? The book is reduced to 99 cents for a limited time and is FREE to borrow with Kindle Unlimited. Here’s the link one more time. To get a sneak preview of the first two chapters before buying, check out this excerpt.

Thanks so much for reading! And, if you enjoy it, I hope you’ll consider telling a friend or leaving a review. Both help my books reach beyond the choir and mean I can spend less time marketing and more time writing. I appreciate all you do — you are why I write.

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