USA Today bestselling author

Tag: shifter books (Page 12 of 16)

Huntress Born, Chapter 2 Scene 1

Huntress Born(Did you miss the first scenes? Click here to start at the beginning.)

When the stranger emerged from the shadows at last, an inexperienced human would have found him inconsequential. His lupine belly nearly scraped the pavement and each step was placed more cautiously than the last, producing the impression of an abused and tentative stray dog.

But, to a shifter, the threat was obvious. This wolf wasn’t skittishly searching for a handout. He was exercising the careful moderation of a practiced hunter. And, as the only living being within eye shot, I was definitely the one who’d been earmarked as prey.

Opening my mouth, I rolled a great gulp of air across my taste buds in an effort to analyze the stranger’s threat level. He wasn’t particularly dominant—I could smell that much from a distance. But despite his lack of alpha oomph, the male was crouched in readiness to spring while his teeth were plenty long enough to take down an average human.

Luckily, I was neither average nor human.

“I’m Ember Wilder-Young,” I said loudly, taking one long step forward as the stranger paused at the edge of the slim circle of illumination provided by the streetlight above my head. A werewolf shouldn’t have needed excessive volume to pick out words across the distance that separated us. But I opted to raise my voice anyway, mimicking the firm yet gentle dominance my father had embodied for my entire life. “I’ve got a ride coming and your alpha’s expecting me. So there’s no need to wait around. I’m good.”

I seemed to be telling everyone that I was good today…and no one was willing to take my assertion at face value either. Like Wolfie, this shifter snorted out a huff of air that called my sanity into question. But then he lifted his muzzle and inhaled deeply through his moist, black nose.

I could see the moment the stranger caught my scent. The breeze, such as it was, had been blowing in the opposite direction from the beginning or this wolf would have gathered all salient details before even stepping out of the shadows. Now he froze, head cocked to one side as he tried to figure out how a woman like me came to be in a place like this.

You smell like rich, irresistible chocolate to any red-blooded shifter male,” one of my cousins had told me the day before. “You’re nuts to leave pack lands unprotected.”

Other family members had chimed in with similar admonitions, trying to keep me at home where I was safe. But I had reasons to be here and I definitely wasn’t going to let the first starry-eyed shifter with more libido than sense send me scurrying back to Haven with my tail between my legs.

So I stood my ground as the wolf drifted closer, his eyes gleaming and the first hint of slobber trailing across pink gums. Yuck. Apparently even the mention of an absent alpha wasn’t enough to get me off the hook this time around. Time to come up with a plan B.

Let me, my wolf murmured underneath my skin. She wanted to speak with my tongue, to order the less dominant wolf to stand down. The compulsion would have worked, too…and yet I hesitated, shifting nervously from foot to foot rather than reaching for our most obvious line of defense.

Because I’d learned the hard way that bending a weaker wolf around my little finger with a simple verbal command wasn’t as painless as it appeared from the dominant side. Instead, being controlled by a stronger shifter was akin to listening to nails scrape across a blackboard while watching someone vomit out great big gobs of stinky stomach contents…all while dangling upside down over a deep abyss that ended in a trough of voracious alligators. There was no long-term damage associated with the compulsion, but the ordeal itself was certainly unpleasant in the moment.

So, yes, I could bark this growling shifter into line…but should I? What if my initial impression had been wrong and the male wasn’t busy stalking women who’d made the unfortunate mistake of walking alone at night? What if I was merely on edge from my recent trip and this male intended to remind me not to traipse through someone else’s territory without permission?

When in doubt, don’t, I decided, opting against forcing my opponent to back down the easy way. Instead, I stood a little taller and gazed directly into the wolf’s greenish eyes. “You really don’t want to mess with me,” I promised too quietly for a human to hear.

Then, relaxing my hold over my own inner beast, I allowed the stranger to see a hint of the animal hidden beneath my human skin.

She might have been smaller than my opponent’s animal, but my wolf was no lightweight. Instead, she was twice as dominant as our aggressor, twice as able to stand up for herself in either a physical or verbal battle. As intimidation tactics went, showing a glimpse of her behind my eyes was akin to a war-like nation threatening to drop an atomic bomb.

And, sure enough, plan C worked like a charm. Drool dried up in an instant as the shifter swiveled without a sound. Then he was heading back into the shadows from which he’d come, not a single yip of protest reaching my ears.

There was nothing like a stronger force to make a budding bully back down.

“And my Uber’s almost here too,” I noted, glancing down at my phone. I’ll admit my voice was a little smug as I watched headlights flicker across the wall behind me. Already, I was thinking three steps in advance, counting my remaining cupcakes as I imagined doling them out to each person I’d need to charm before I could lay my head on a pillow and drift into rejuvenating sleep.

One for the Uber driver, one for the Greenbriar pack leader, one for my eventual host. Luckily, I had precisely three cupcakes left…not counting my own treat smashed between clean undies and a work blouse, that is. Perfect.

Which is when I picked up a sound from the direction in which the wolf had fled. A wolf’s growl. A woman’s gasp.

Meanwhile, the air around me filled with the sharp scent of overwhelming fear. Perhaps I shouldn’t have given that wolf so much benefit of the doubt after all….

Click here to read the next scene. Or grab a copy here now.

Huntress Born, Chapter 1 Scene 2

Huntress Born(Did you miss the first scene? Click here to start at the beginning.)

The Uber app reported that my ride was still several miles out and my stomach ached with the enforced distance from pack. So I sank down onto the curb and succumbed to that most lupine of yearnings—the necessity of calling home.

“Ember.” The voice of my father—who wasn’t biologically related but who was very much my alpha—crept over me like the scent of a newly mown meadow. Shoulders that had hunched up around my ears for the last eighteen hours drifted gradually downward and I eyed the cupcake bin strapped to the top of my suitcase with renewed longing.

Not yet, I chided myself. Hearing Wolfie say my name might have made me feel at home, but I hadn’t actually reached a safe harbor. Which meant it wasn’t time for my much-anticipated treat. Not quite yet.

“Dad,” I answered instead, trying to sound like a capable twenty-five-year-old woman rather than like a scared little girl. Despite my fanged alter-ego, this was the first time I’d left Haven under my own volition. No wonder I felt as jumpy as a newborn colt.

And my father must have sensed the worry imbuing that lone word. Because he dove right into the heart of the issue with all the single-mindedness of a born wolf. “Trouble?” he asked.

“Nothing I can’t handle.” My tone was firm but I knew Wolfie heard the lie in my voice as easily as I’d picked out the pride and affection in his. So I strove to make the next sentence true by recalling the way the scent of fur had faded almost as soon as it entered my nostrils. “I’m fine,” I added, focusing on the fact that the trouble really was gone. I had handled the potential problem. So my initial words weren’t really a falsehood after all.

And the evasion seemed to work. Unfortunately, my father moved on to a question that was much harder to sidestep. “Are you eating your cupcake yet?” Wolfie asked next, his deep rumble the lupine equivalent of a relaxing purr.

This time I hesitated, unwilling to fudge a question so tightly tied to a beloved childhood ritual. Because Dad had been baking gift cupcakes ever since I’d reached my teens, using the unique pastries to celebrate hurdles overcome and milestones achieved. In today’s case, the pastry Wolfie had concocted with his own two hands—unlike the more numerous ones I’d made myself—was tucked away deep within my suitcase, a single-serving bin hiding what was bound to be a work of art.

I hadn’t even seen my present yet. Was saving that particular boost for the moment when I was finally able to let down my guard and relax into my bed tonight. I wanted to eat the gift with care while feeling the pack bond encircle me just like my father’s arms had done so many times before. I wanted to use Dad’s cupcake to remember I was loved.

So, in the end, I didn’t even attempt a lie as I answered my father’s second question of the evening. “Not yet,” I admitted. Then, remembering my supposed independence and the very real distance separating me from my home pack, I added: “But you can go to sleep anyway. I have this covered.”

Wolfie hummed acknowledgement of my honesty, but that didn’t mean he was willing to let me off the hook just yet. “If you’re not eating, then I’m not sleeping,” my father murmured, his words warming my belly far more than a mere morsel of chocolate might have done.

But then the silence between us turned brittle, and I sighed, knowing which often-repeated conversation was coming next. “You don’t have to say it,” I interjected, cutting my father off at the pass. “This might be a wild-goose chase and Derek might not want to be found. If my brother really intended to get to know me, he would have come to visit in person rather than sending cryptic messages that resulted in me crossing territory lines. That all makes just as much sense as it did the first time you said it…but I’m willing to take the chance. I can’t leave my brother dangling if he’s really in trouble.”

“I know,” Dad rumbled, his voice just as warm now as it had been a moment earlier. He didn’t correct my semantics, either. Didn’t mention that Derek was only a half-brother or that our shared mom had chosen to abandon me at birth. Instead, Dad’s next words proved that my adopted father, at least, would always be on my side even if he disapproved of my current actions. “That wasn’t what I was going to say at all.”

The phone went silent as my father paused, and I closed my eyes to better sense his presence. Despite the hundreds of miles that separated us, merely breathing in tandem revitalized exhausted muscles and soothed traveling jitters. I would have gladly sat there all night, soaking up Wolfie’s strength and reveling in the connection of pack.

But I had places to go. Brothers to meet. Alphas to charm. So, at last, I prodded my father back onto track. “Dad?”

Immediately, Wolfie’s deep rumble filled my ears once again. “No matter what happens, Buttercup, I’ll be here to back you up. You can always come home.”

A human twenty-something would have responded with an agitated eye roll. There were even some shifters who might have felt stifled by an adopted parent’s clear obsession with their continued well-being.

But I wasn’t one of the latter. For me, family was everything. As such, I had every intention of finding the half-brother I’d never before met, making sure he wasn’t in trouble, then high-tailing it back the way I’d come as quickly and carefully as possible.

Unfortunately, now wasn’t the time to bask in familial reassurances. Because the scent of fur had returned, filling the air more strongly than ever. And this time, it was all I could do to swallow down a lupine growl.

“I’ve gotta go,” I said instead, disconnecting the call without waiting for a reply and slipping my phone into a pants pocket for safekeeping. Then clambering to my feet, I stared out into the darkness in search of a wolf.

Click here to read the next scene. Or grab a copy here now.

 

Huntress Born, Chapter 1 Scene 1

Huntress BornReady to dive into a new werewolf adventure? Rather than me telling you all about my newest werewolf book, you can simply start reading below.

***

I stepped off the bus into a darkened city full of human muggers, territorial werewolves, and countless other scoundrels. But I was prepared. I’d brought cupcakes.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t yet time to eat those cupcakes. Instead, I keyed an Uber request into my phone with one hand while dragging my rolling suitcase clear of the massive wheels with the other. Then I froze as my inner animal abruptly straightened onto full alert.

Wolf. The hint of fur, musk, and testosterone warred for pride of place with urban odors, and I found myself turning in a tight circle in search of the source of the barely present aroma. If my inner beast wasn’t mistaken—and she rarely was—then this wasn’t merely a shifter in human form sliding seamlessly through the city streets the way I hoped to do. No, a fur-form werewolf was nearby, running four-legged in a space where only two-leggers belonged.

Hairs lengthened on the backs of my arms as my inner beast responded to danger by requesting ownership of our shared body. We were female, far from our pack, and boasted no recourse save our own lupine fangs. It was time to pull out those ivory weapons and show this stranger how capable we were of fighting back.

But instead of obliging my animal’s request, I merely stalked to the edge of the lighted circle that marked the bus drop-off zone. Then, drawing extra sensory assistance from my inner wolf, we peered together into the asphalt shadows.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Even in human form, it was easy to pick out the staccato beat of a leaky faucet inside the closed Greyhound station behind our back. Grumbling cars rolled past one block over while human laughter emanated from what smelled like a bar further down the street. But nothing pointed to danger more severe than tired businessmen enjoying a night out on the town. Nothing suggested that my initial impulse—the urge to track down a wolf who possessed the scent signature of a stalker—was anything more than inexperienced-traveler jitters.

This is unknown territory, I reminded myself. Maybe smelling a wolf here is no big deal.

After all, there were several hundred times as many people per square mile in this city compared to the rural enclave where I’d grown up. Presumably, there were several hundred times as many werewolves too.

Still, given the legal imperative against displaying our animal skins to the one-body world, surely it made no sense for a werewolf to be wandering these city streets on four furry feet. No sense…unless the shifter in question was hunting a very specific sort of prey.

Prey like me.

Back home, I would have responded to imminent danger by shifting and running for higher ground. In the process, I’d tug at the pack bond that sat invisible yet ever-present at my fingertips then would laugh with exhilaration as dozens of uncles and aunts and cousins came sprinting up to join me. Together, we’d been known to roust troublesome werewolves away from our borders in less time than it took to whip up a batch of buttercream frosting.

Here though, I was deep in the heart of Greenbriar territory, an invader rather than a defender…from a legal standpoint at least. I had no permission to be present. No permission to walk these streets in search of the brother I’d never before met and who I only hoped was still alive. As such, the smart response would have been to keep my head down and to stay out of trouble. I couldn’t go haring off after a total stranger based on nothing more than a whim combined with a trick of the light.

Chase him. Find him, my inner beast countered. She urged me to blow off human worries and slip into the skin of our wolf. To follow our instincts and run. Now, she added impatiently.

But before we could duke out our disagreement, the distinctive odor of wolf began receding into the distance. Within seconds, the hint of fur had faded to nothing, hidden beneath the overwhelming aromas of rotting garbage and over-applied perfume.

Perhaps the danger had never been present in the first place other than in my own over-tired brain.

And as the scent trail dissipated, I was once again left alone in a strange city with only a few possessions at my disposal. A suitcase, four cupcakes, and a phone that promised connection to my beloved pack mates. The combination would have to be enough.

Click here to read the next scene. Or grab a copy here now.

 

First Blood

Ember Wilder-YoungIn fall 2017, I launched a new series that returns to a character from the Wolf Rampant series…twenty-four years later than when you saw her last. Ember is now all grown up and facing new challenges. But before you learn more about those trials and tribulations, I thought you might enjoy a story from the middle of the intervening period, when Ember is twelve years old and Wolfie, for the first time, flubs the job of fatherhood…

The door slamming, the disgruntled looks, the surly responses. Wolf Young — aka Wolfie, biggest baddest werewolf in the middle Appalachians — had known accepting the job of pack leader would be difficult. He just hadn’t realized his archnemesis would be his own daughter.

“I don’t see why you can’t just leave me alone!” Ember emoted. The preteen’s scent exuded pain, confusion, and sadness as she slipped out from under her father’s arm and rushed away into the night. What the heck? He’d only asked her if she needed any help with her homework.

“I think she needs a little time,” Terra — his mate — explained gently. “You know she can’t get into any trouble here in Haven. Come back to bed.”

So Wolfie obeyed…but he didn’t have to like it.

***

The next morning, the big, bad, overworked alpha blew off the pile of paperwork demanding his immediate attention and slipped outside in lupine form. Ember was only twelve years old, far too young to be drawn into a shifter mating dance. But if she was sneaking out to see boys, Wolfie intended to do something about it…something that involved ripping off arms and ensuring that certain males never touched his innocent offspring ever again.

Except his only child’s scent trail didn’t lead in any such direction. Instead, Ember’s mossy aroma drew the pack leader across the village green and around a corner until he stopped in front of the community dining hall. His daughter had snuck away at midnight…to eat scrambled eggs?

“Seen Ember around?” he asked the pack member in charge as he stalked in the open front door. Wolfie’s voice was scratchy from his recent shift back to human form but his eyes didn’t miss a single detail as he scanned the shifters cooking, eating, and having an all-around good time. Nope, no daughter here.

Acacia — an old friend and a loyal pack mate — ignored her alpha’s nudity and stopped swiping at a table top so she could join him at the door. “Your daughter’s been helping out here every day this week, but she left fifteen minutes ago.” The female paused, raised one eyebrow. “You know Ember’s virtually living in our guest room, right?”

Wolfie knew nothing of the sort. His twelve-year-old daughter had moved out…and he hadn’t even gotten a memo?

Sure, he’d been traveling a lot lately, trying to keep the neighboring packs from going crazy as they divided up formerly neutral territory among themselves. Meanwhile, his mate had been keeping the home fires burning in his absence…not so easy when Haven welcomed every lone werewolf who nosed around their borders despite the unfortunate tendency of the packless to rebel against even the slightest show of authority.

So he and his spouse had both been distracted. But how could they have missed Ember getting so upset she willingly chose to abandon their loving home?

“She’s an excellent baker and a good kid,” Acacia continued, placing a soothing hand on his shoulder. “She’s just figuring out who she is right now, and that means rebelling against her parents. Give her a little time and she’ll come home.”

A little time. Wolfie tried to accept the well-meant advice and put it to good use. But now that he’d noticed the chink in his family’s armor, that particular crack yawned wider by the moment until it turned into a gaping canyon separating him from the child who held his heart. He couldn’t let Ember slink off into the distance like a packless loner. He simply couldn’t.

***

So the big, bad, worried alpha continued tracking his daughter through their vibrant village. At the community garden, Wolfie was informed that Ember had been helping weed and harvest for the last three weeks…and that he’d just missed her today. A trio of boys playing basketball barely escaped Wolfie’s wrath when they explained that the mossy scent coating one male’s arm emanated from Ember’s competitive streak rather than from any amorous advances. His daughter had won the game of Horse…and despite that athletic side trip she was still ten minutes ahead of her doting father.

Wolfie wanted to be impressed by his daughter’s abilities for stealth when he lost her trail briefly in the woods. But, mostly, he was just growing more and more worried that the small splinter in his family’s happiness might actually turn out to be the source of an infected, gangrenous wound.

Plus, there was a scent of blood on the air now. Just the barest hint, as if his daughter had scratched her arm up against a sharp stick and ignored the wound. Still, the aroma was enough to raise Wolfie’s ruff and bring a growl up his furry throat. No way was his daughter going to be wandering around injured on his watch.

So he cheated. Pulling up the pack bond that provided information on every member of his clan, Wolfie tugged on his daughter’s thread…and soon ended up tracing her right back to his own front door.

Ember was home. Wolfie slammed inside without worrying about scratched paint or bent hinges. It was past time to put this silliness to bed.

***

“She’s in her room,” Terra greeted her mate as he walked inside. Then, glancing down at Wolfie’s dirt-streaked but otherwise naked skin, his mate added, “You might want to put on some clothing before you talk to her.”

Probably a good idea. Wolfie accepted a shirt and pants from his life partner, managing to drag on both while bounding toward his daughter’s room without pause. Opening her door without knocking, the placating words he’d managed to pull together on his descent from the mountain slipped right out of his mind as he was hit by a sensation that stopped him in his track — the overwhelming odor of large quantities of spilled blood.

“Buttercup, where are you hurt?” Wolfie demanded, pulling his daughter off her bed and patting her down with terrified hands. During his long, useless chase through pack lands, how had he managed to miss the magnitude of Ember’s injury? How could he have thought this death wound was merely a scratch? Some alpha werewolf he was.

“Ow, Dad, stop it!” the girl grumbled, wriggling out of his grasp. She moved easily, no signs of broken bones. And yet…was his daughter hunching over more than usual? Was she guarding an injured stomach from further attack?

A gut wound was seriously bad news, and Wolfie found himself falling to his knees at his daughter’s feet. “Ember, please. We’ll bring you to your Uncle Dale and he can fix whatever’s broken….”

Instead of answering him directly, his daughter merely rolled her eyes and raised her voice. “Mom!” she demanded. “Will you get Dad out of my room? And explain to him why I don’t need a doctor?”

But no one answered. Father and daughter paused, cocked their heads in mirrored synchrony, then together lifted their chins to sniff at the air. Terra had left the building. Wolfie was on his own.

***

Sighing, Ember squared her shoulders and opened her mouth. “You’re just going to nag at me until I talk, aren’t you?”

Nag? Big, bad alpha werewolves didn’t nag. But, at the moment, Wolfie would have agreed to anything coming out of his daughter’s mouth. So he nodded slowly and reached forward to take one of her hands between both of his own. Thankfully, she allowed the touch.

Still, Ember hesitated, turned her face away, shuffled her feet. The problem was evidently worse than he’d imagined. Could a twelve-year-old become pregnant? Had his usually pacific daughter started a war with another clan? Did she possess a gambling addiction that would draw mobsters to their door seeking immediate retribution?

Not a problem, Wolfie decided. He’d simply unleash his inner wolf and tear into the opposition until they left his family alone. Easy peasy.

Okay, so maybe he should try words first. So, gathering his courage around him, Wolfie tipped up his daughter’s chin until their eyes met. “Tell me.”

And then the words came gushing out. “I’m starting my period, okay? It hurts, and it’s yucky, and the boys can all smell it, which is so embarrassing I think I’m gonna die.” She sniffed, a lone tear rolling down one cheek and dripping off her chin. And for one split second, she was his little girl again, waiting to be drawn into loving arms that could heal all ills.

But then Ember’s eyes flashed in a way that was all woman, and she pushed Wolfie so hard he rocked back onto his heels. “Do you know what it’s like having hormones trick my wolf into thinking there’s danger around every bend? To have no control over my own shifts? It’s so, totally unfair that you don’t have to deal with this. I hate you!”

Then, rising, his daughter prepared to restart their earlier chase.

***

“Wait.”

Wolfie didn’t think the angry almost-woman would obey him, but she did. Pausing in the doorway, his little girl looked back with a scared, confused wolf barely hidden behind human eyes.

“You can’t fix it, Dad,” she told him, angrily, coldly. But she wanted him to. Ember so badly wanted her father to snap his fingers and change things back to the way they’d always been that her body leaned subtly forward, her fingers moving through the air in search of a thread that would pull them bodily into their shared past.

Well, that wasn’t happening. But Wolfie could instead propel them toward an even better future.

“I hear you’ve been in charge of the pastries in the dining hall lately,” he told her, rising to his feet more gracefully than he’d descended. “Care to show me how it’s done?”

Ember hesitated, weight shifting from foot to foot. He could tell she thought that he was scared of a little girl blood. She was pissed at him for changing the subject. But a chance to show off newfound skills — what competitive werewolf wouldn’t fall for such a trap?

For a second, though, Wolfie imagined he’d lost the gamble. Anger filled the air, along with the scent of fur that suggested an impending shift. But then Ember pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. “What do you want to make?”

“Cupcakes,” Wolfie answered quickly. Then, remembering what his mate had told him about the cure to feminine ills, he added, “Chocolate cupcakes.”

Which is how a big, bad alpha werewolf came to be covered in flour and cocoa when a delegation from the least friendly neighboring pack arrived for an unscheduled meet and greet. But Wolfie wasn’t worried. Male tempers he could handle. As long as Ember was smiling, all was right in his world.

Want to see more of Ember and Wolfie? Keep reading with the Wolf Legacy series.

Or maybe you’d like to share this story with your friends? Click the link below for easy commenting and sharing!

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: Chapter 2, Scene 2

Dragon MageIf you missed the beginning of Nicholas’s chapter, please click here to catch up.

She. The word smacked Nicholas across the face just as his brother had intended, and his feet turned toward the stairwell as the fastest path to achieve his destination.

“There’s no big hurry,” Alexander called after his retreating back. “One of the visiting sloggers said she’d been up there for two hours already. He thought the female was one of us. Imagine, a silver dragon and he had no idea she didn’t belong.”

Nicholas could well imagine. Mudsloggers — or sloggers for short — were ordinary humans who occasionally visited the Aerie to trade or work. They were inevitably terrified of dragons, or were at least in awe of the tremendous beasts who prevented the Green from overrunning the few skyscraper safe zones where both dragons and humans lived in harmony. Why should a slogger bother to consider color and gender when the mere presence of a dragon was enough to make most of them piss their pants?

“She shifted?” Nicholas called backwards even as he pulled at his own inner fire and felt fiery wings pop out of human shoulder blades. Stairs were faster than the elevator…especially when you were a dragon and able to fly.

“Nope,” his brother answered, matching him wingbeat for wingbeat. Together, they pushed upwards, navigating the nine stories between kitchen and roof in the time it would have taken for the elevator to ascend a single level.

“She’s leaving then.” Nicholas wasn’t sure why his stomach lurched at the thought. Probably just because he’d never met a female dragon before. Never imagined there were sisters out there to match the brothers — some of his blood, all of his heart — with whom he shared this aerial retreat.

Because there weren’t new dragons being born or made. Every shifter had popped into existence three decades earlier at the same time normal plants morphed into the dangerous Green. Perhaps that was why learning about a female dragon after all this time felt like stepping into a fairy tale where knights and dragons were matched by princesses and tasks of honor.

“Hasn’t even spread her wings,” Alexander countered. Then, catching Nicholas’s arm before the latter could push open the heavy metal door that stood between them and the open summit of the Plaza, his brother admonished, “Slow down. You don’t want to scare her away.”

Nicholas couldn’t slow down, though. Instead, his feet rushed forward, hip thrusting out to press against the release bar in the middle of the door. Sister. The word danced like a newfound secret down his spine and for a moment Nicholas remembered what secrets used to feel like before they’d turned into a burden nearly impossible to bear.

Still, he forced himself to pause after stepping out into the cool, damp tang of evening so his eyes could adjust to the rapidly fading light. Back in the Before, the rooftop would have been ablaze with the glow of electric bulbs, the city beneath so brilliant it made stars in the sky impossible to pick out of the smoggy skyline. Now, the Aerie faded into near darkness as soon as evening fell, only a few beacons of light shining to the north, south, and west where five other buildings rose high enough in the air to provide refuge from the Green.

But Nicholas had no attention to spare for either absent lights or pesky vines that were unable to breach his current elevated location. Instead, his gaze locked onto the beast perched atop the tremendous air-conditioning unit that rose above the roof’s otherwise flat surface.

Silvery hide reflected the last rays of the setting sun and a long tail twined sinuously around the vertical wall below. The strange dragon appeared to be relaxing, basking even. But her eyes were open wide, her muscles tensed as if to flee. And Nicholas found himself motioning his brother backward with a single wave of one desperate hand.

“Go below,” he commanded, knowing even as he spoke that he was screwing up already. Dragons weren’t good at at obeying orders, and Alexander was likely to do the exact opposite when faced with a stark demand.

But…a female dragon. The notion must have filled his brother with every bit as much awe as Nicholas felt, because footsteps obligingly retreated back toward the stairwell from which they’d both come. The door clicked open and clanged shut once more, then Nicholas was alone with the biggest secret he’d uncovered in his entire life.

I hope you enjoyed this sneak peek into Sabrina and Nicholas’s world! If so, keep reading Cerulean Magic here. Or why not join the conversation on facebook?

Thanks for reading!

Cerulean Magic: Chapter 2, Scene 1

Dragon MageChapter 2 begins two hours before the events of chapter 1.

Nicholas had sworn off secrets. Unfortunately, secrets didn’t feel the same way about him. Instead, they seemed bound and determined to waft their way out of his friends’ lips and into his ears whether he kept his nose stuck in a tablet or not. And, inevitably, those same secrets ended up with the people he cared about hurting or dead.

Well, not this time. The dragon shifter reached out and attempted to pull the heavy tray away from Charlotte’s burdened hands. “Here, let me take that.”

Excuse me?” She turned on him with flashing eyes and furrowed brow. “In case you hadn’t noticed, carrying food around is my job. I’m a serving wench, remember?”

“Serving wench? What is this, the Dark Ages?” Nicholas closed his eyes and counted to two. It was meant to be ten, but Charlotte’s heavier-than-usual footsteps were receding rapidly, so he expedited the sub-process before trotting down the hallway in her wake.

His friend didn’t slow down, though. Instead, Nicholas ended up walking backwards in front of her hurried form in an effort to recapture the young woman’s attention. “Look, this isn’t appropriate work given your sensitive condition. You need to tell the baby’s father and let him provide the assistance you deserve. He…”

“Shush!” Now Charlotte did stop and glance in both directions down the empty corridor. “That was a secret. You said you wouldn’t tell anyone….”

“And I didn’t,” Nicholas countered.

Not that he had any choice in the matter. Like every dragon, Nicholas possessed a knack…but his came with a troublesome side effect. Step into his presence and man, woman, and child alike vomited up secrets at the drop of a hat. That aspect of his trait was straightforward enough. The tricky part emerged later, when Nicholas became physically incapable of discussing those secrets with anyone other than their originator.

It was maddening…especially when the secret keeper persisted in allowing pride to outweigh good sense. On at least one memorable occasion, a secret kept had resulted in a life lost. If Nicholas had any say about it, Charlotte wouldn’t fall into the same enticing trap.

“Well, that’s a relief,” his current companion started. But Nicholas cut her off before she could brush past him and return to work.

“I didn’t tell anyone, but you need to. You said you’re already beginning to show, which means you’re probably tired, nauseous, and generally not feeling your best….”

“What are you, a midwife?”

“I prefer the term Ob/Gyn,” Nicholas countered dryly. What he actually was was a data nerd who possessed a cached version of the internet from the Before. A quick image search had turned up a handy pregnancy chart…but then he’d gotten lost down a rabbit hole of terrifying forum posts.

Nicholas shivered. No, none of those nightmares were going to happen to Charlotte on his watch. She’d just have to stop saddling herself with unnecessary burdens and toe the line of good sense….

Then the elevator dinged and two new sets of footsteps turned into the corridor behind him. In response, Charlotte leapt five feet backwards so quickly she nearly spilled the contents of her far-too-heavy tray. Great. Rather than appearing to be a pair interrupted in the midst of a heated debate, they instead looked like lovers startled out of an intimate moment.

Sure enough, when he turned to face the newcomers, both of their faces wore matching expressions of warm amusement. The younger man — a server just like Charlotte — smoothed his expression in reaction to Nicholas’s glare, but the other onlooker was less easily cowed.

“Tch, tch, brother,” Alexander teased. “What have I told you about manhandling serving wenches in the corridors?”

That’s where you got it from?” Nicholas demanded, turning back to face his original conversational partner. “Please tell me he’s not…”

“He’s not,” she cut him off.

As if Nicholas would have spilled the beans even if he was physically capable of doing so. He flared his nostrils in lieu of rolling his eyes, then turned his glare onto the male server. “Take Charlotte’s tray.”

At least that human was intimidated by a dragon shifter’s curt command. Of course, then Nicholas felt like shit as the male moved to obey so quickly that he tripped over his own two feet and barely refrained from knocking Charlotte down in the process.

By the time trays had traded hands, Alexander was laughing so loudly the entire corridor reverberated with his amusement. Nicholas’s brother continued to chortle as the the male server retraced his footsteps and disappeared back into the elevator from whence he’d come. And Alexander didn’t pause when Charlotte strode off in the opposite direction either, snub nose in the air and annoyance lending metaphorical wings to previously leaden feet.

Only once the hallway was empty save for the two siblings did his trouble-making brother fall silent at last. But then Nicholas flinched because Alexander’s usual easy-going smile faded as quickly as it had come, his eyes darkening with distress instead.

“No, please don’t tell me a secret,” Nicholas ground out.

“It’s not a secret exactly,” Alexander countered. “Half the Aerie will know within the hour. But there is a strange dragon up on the rooftop. We need your knack to figure out who she is.”

Click here to continue Nicholas’s story….

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.

« Older posts Newer posts »

© 2026 Aimee Easterling

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑