{"id":3284,"date":"2023-05-08T14:23:13","date_gmt":"2023-05-08T18:23:13","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/aimeeeasterling.com\/?p=3284"},"modified":"2023-05-10T15:25:13","modified_gmt":"2023-05-10T19:25:13","slug":"wolfs-curse-sneak-peek","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/aimeeeasterling.com\/?p=3284","title":{"rendered":"Wolf’s Curse sneak peek"},"content":{"rendered":"

If you haven’t read Wolf Trap<\/a> yet, this post contains spoilers!! Please stop reading now and grab your copy of book one while it’s marked down to 99 cents.<\/em><\/p>\n

Ready to continue Tru’s adventure? Read on…<\/em><\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Chapter 1<\/strong><\/h1>\n

\"Wolf's<\/a>There\u2019s nothing quite like grave robbing to ruin a first date. Not that Drake and I were on a formal date. And not that I intended to dig around in my husband\u2019s grave when we set off up the hill.<\/p>\n

The landscape, however, was ominous from the start. Above us, the branches of winter-bare trees curled like a giant\u2019s fingers. And our choice not to bring flashlights was cast into doubt by the new moon\u2019s complete absence, not even a sliver brightening the sky.<\/p>\n

No wonder my foot caught on a root. But before I could do more than tilt off balance, Drake\u2019s hand caught my elbow, stabilizing me while provoking a different sort of upheaval beneath my skin.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re cold,\u201d he rasped, misreading the cause of my shivers.<\/p>\n

I shook my head then layered words atop the gesture since it was too dark for even shifter eyes to read body language. \u201cNo. Just concerned about Lynette.\u201d<\/p>\n

And that was true, if not the entire truth. Despite being the one who had browbeat me into setting up this outing, our sixteen-year-old ward had decided it would take way too much effort to climb up to the graveyard where Ambrose had been buried. Instead, she\u2019d invited herself into a game of tag being played by four young werewolves down where we\u2019d parked our cars.<\/p>\n

Which, in a way, was good. Lynette needed friends. She deserved a normal childhood to counteract the magical hands that tended to scorch those she touched if she wasn\u2019t careful.<\/p>\n

Still, I couldn\u2019t help voicing my worries now. \u201cShe wasn\u2019t wearing gloves and it looked like she was going to win. If she burns somebody, they\u2019ll bite back.\u201d<\/p>\n

Drake\u2019s growl promised immediate, bloody retribution. \u201cThey wouldn\u2019t dare. Plus,\u201d he continued, his rasp warming, \u201cLynette\u2019s control is improving. You\u2019re a good influence.\u201d<\/p>\n

The final words, aimed in my direction, felt like a caress. Despite his job, despite his voice, Drake was a protector of those he cared about. Lynette, the Strays\u2026<\/p>\n

\u2026Me.<\/p>\n

The question was, could I allow myself to be included in that list when my previous leap into a romantic relationship had proven so disastrous? When I now had a teenager depending on me to protect and guide her out of an equally traumatic past?<\/p>\n

I shivered for a reason other than Drake\u2019s delicious proximity, then I returned to the conversational point before my companion could remark upon my bodily reaction. \u201cThe influence between me and Lynette flows primarily in the other direction. Did she tell you we went clothes shopping last week while you were in Montana?\u201d<\/p>\n

Despite my best intentions, I found myself picking at the sliver of bared skin where my sweater V\u2019ed down in a very unladylike manner. The choice of wardrobe had been Lynette\u2019s, and I\u2019d accepted her fashion advice because doing so made her smile. Plus, as I\u2019d reminded myself half a dozen times since then, what would have been a societal faux pas in the time I hailed from was now considered not risqu\u00e9 in the least.<\/p>\n

Still, I found myself hoisting the neck of the sweater upward, which had the unfortunate side effect of producing a cold breeze down my back. And this time, Drake didn\u2019t even bother asking if I was cold. Wool swirled around my shoulders, bringing with it his signature lemon-meringue-pie aroma plus a hug-like warmth. Clever fingers buttoned the pea coat beneath my chin to hold it in place, cloak-like. He didn\u2019t fumble once despite the pitch black.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll speak to Lynette about being pushy,\u201d he murmured into my ear, and I shivered even though I was now toasty warm inside his overcoat.<\/p>\n

With an effort, I leaned my body in the direction it didn\u2019t want to lean\u2014away from the tantalizing werewolf. Drake had left the relationship ball in my court and I wasn\u2019t quite ready to pick it up again.<\/p>\n

So I stuck to words rather than embracing the physical attraction spinning between us. \u201cYou don\u2019t like the clothes?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYour clothes are your business. Not hers. Not mine.\u201d A pause, then a purr replaced Drake\u2019s usual rasp. \u201cBut, yes, I like what you\u2019re wearing very much. My coat. What\u2019s under my coat.\u201d<\/p>\n

I could almost taste the words he hadn\u2019t added. What\u2019s under the sweater and skirt beneath my coat\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n

Now it wasn\u2019t just the extra garment raising my core temperature and I could no longer talk myself into holding the relationship line I\u2019d drawn in the sand. Yes, for Lynette\u2019s sake we needed to make sure the volcano I could feel building between us didn\u2019t erupt in ways that would fling burning relationship lava onto our ward. Yes, it would be so easy to lose myself in the eruption before I\u2019d really found myself.<\/p>\n

Still, despite the darkness, my right hand had no problem finding his left hand. Skin grazed skin then I let my fingers slide between his fingers as if they were coming home to rest.<\/p>\n

Perhaps I was ready to bounce that relationship ball just a little bit off the ground after all.<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay?\u201d Drake asked, even though I was the one who\u2019d reached out and touched him. Even though the intimacy level of our contact was moderate enough that grade schoolers wouldn\u2019t have blushed.<\/p>\n

\u201cI want this,\u201d I admitted, resisting the impulse to do more than interweave our fingers, \u201cbut I still wake up in cold sweats, afraid I\u2019ll bind myself to an alpha werewolf and harm not only myself but also Lynette and Neko.\u201d<\/p>\n

Neko was the kitten Drake and I also shared unofficial custody of, the uninspired name (cat<\/em> in Japanese) making me feel grounded to my forgotten past every time I spoke it. The cat in question was currently napping in the pocket of the coat Drake had lent me, and I let my unoccupied hand slide between layers of fabric to cup his furry warmth. In response, Neko stretched a silky back against my palm, the contact soothing away some but not all of the tremors memories aroused inside me.<\/p>\n

Drake was the one who soothed away the others as he had before and likely would again. \u201cI don\u2019t want anything you aren\u2019t ready for.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re content with this?\u201d I raised up our hands, palms pressed close together.<\/p>\n

\u201cMore than content,\u201d he rasped. \u201cThank you for inviting me along tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n

The truth was, Lynette had stolen my phone and hit the send button before I could talk myself into deleting the message requesting Drake join us here. The laughter Lynette and I had shared as I threatened to ground her for life colored my subsequent words now. \u201cVery romantic, taking you to visit my husband\u2019s grave.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFirst.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFirst?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFirst husband.\u201d<\/p>\n

First husband and first alpha werewolf who\u2019d expressed a romantic interest in me. Ambrose Reed had lured me halfway around the world as a picture bride, had intended to kill me, and had instead stuck me in suspended animation for over a century.<\/p>\n

That suspended animation\u2014helped along by the spirit of my sword parasol\u2014had wiped out most of my memory. So I didn\u2019t actually know many of the facts involved in Ambrose\u2019s awfulness. Couldn\u2019t dig up any recollection of how Drake and I had met, although he\u2019d filled in those blanks verbally. Didn\u2019t know my real name or much of my past.<\/p>\n

Which was part of why I was here. I hoped visiting Ambrose\u2019s grave might revive some sliver of knowledge about my history. Well, I\u2019d come for that, plus the childish intention of stomping on the earth Ambrose had been planted beneath while celebrating his belated demise.<\/p>\n

To that end, my footsteps quickened as we stepped out of the trees and into a clearing on the hilltop. Out from under the bare-branched canopy, I could see just a little better, enough to make out headstones dotting grass that someone likely hiked up to mow once or twice a season. In the near darkness, it was hard to tell where the newest grave might lie.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis way.\u201d Drake, as usual, was prepared. He turned us south, his hand guiding me as if my arm was a boat\u2019s rudder. The gesture should have been awkward but it wasn\u2019t. Instead, I imagined we were dancing. An old-style gavotte perhaps, the sort that ended with a kiss.<\/p>\n

My cheeks burned by the time Drake\u2019s free arm lashed out in front of me. Fox reflexes kept me from losing my balance and fox-assisted eyes let me see, one moment later, what my escort was reacting to.<\/p>\n

The ground in front of us wasn\u2019t grassy lawn like what covered up other grave sites. Instead, a hole deep enough so I couldn\u2019t make out the bottom and long enough to lie down in yawned before us.<\/p>\n

Someone had dug up my husband\u2019s grave.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

\u200bChapter 2<\/h1>\n

For one split second, fear gripped me like a cold hand around my throat. Memories flirted with my consciousness, memories of Ambrose using my marriage vow to turn me into a willing participant in the draining of every drop of blood out of my body.<\/p>\n

Then I swallowed past fear. Whatever had happened to his grave, Ambrose was dead.<\/i> This was a puzzle to be deciphered, nothing else.<\/p>\n

To that end, I focused on mundanities. \u201cDo you mind if I destroy your night vision?\u201d<\/p>\n

Rather than answering aloud, Drake\u2019s phone flared into flashlight mode, illuminating the pit and the mound of earth on the far side while making the dark forest around us impenetrable. The benefit we\u2019d gained by walking up here in the dark was lost.<\/p>\n

Which was fine. We\u2019d gotten permission to spend time in this territory. Still, danger itched at the back of my neck as I peered down into a hole as deep as I was tall. At the bottom, the lid of a plain wooden coffin lay askew, the slant just sufficient to prove grave robbing had been the cause of the digging while not allowing us to see inside.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis isn\u2019t fresh,\u201d Drake rasped, kneeling down to crumble dirt between his fingers. \u201cIt\u2019s been rained on but it\u2019s not wet.\u201d<\/p>\n

Which meant whoever had dug this hole likely wasn\u2019t waiting in the darkness to pounce on us. Still\u2026<\/p>\n

The fear that had flitted through me a moment earlier solidified into a solid thrum of urgency. Our ward was running around in the darkness down where we\u2019d parked our vehicles. The parents of the shifters she played with were inside nearby buildings, but a lot could happen before a teenager would think to call for help\u2026<\/p>\n

I yanked out my phone and punched the number beside Lynette\u2019s face. It rang and rang and rang, long enough for my rushing thoughts to coalesce into images that would provide fodder for new nightmares.<\/p>\n

Whoever had dug up Ambrose\u2019s grave could capture Lynette. Cage her the way she\u2019d already been caged for over a year, picking partially healed<\/span><\/span><\/span> scabs off the wounds of her earlier emotional abrasions. Her hands could be turned into weapons. Her\u2026<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s up?\u201d Our ward was out of breath when she finally answered, but I could hear the smile in her voice. She was fine and I didn\u2019t want to scare her. Still, my words came out terse.<\/p>\n

\u201cI want you to get into one of our cars and lock the doors.\u201d Because, yes, there were adult shifters in houses nearby\u2026but who could say whether one of them might be responsible for the grave robbing?<\/p>\n

Immediately, the joy in Lynette\u2019s voice disappeared. We were back in neighboring cells, preparing for unknown danger. \u201cI\u2019m not leaving the kids behind,\u201d she bit out before calling in her playmates.<\/p>\n

And even though I wanted Lynette to be able to act like a child, her presence of mind still made me proud. \u201cGood work,\u201d I told her, talking fast and low before the young shifters got close enough to hear me. \u201cTurn it into a new game. Clown car. See how many of you can cram inside and\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

My mind went blank. How exactly was it fun for tweens and teens to sit cooped up in a too-small vehicle while waiting for us to return and rescue them?<\/p>\n

Drake\u2019s fingers curled around my fingers, tapping out a question<\/span><\/span><\/span>. Could he add his two cents\u2019 worth? I nodded and he raised my phone up to his lips.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy spare key is in a magnetic case beneath the passenger-side rear wheel well,\u201d he rasped. \u201cTake them on a joy ride.\u201d<\/p>\n

I had to stand on tiptoe and lean into Drake\u2019s warm bulk to get close enough for<\/span><\/span><\/span> the mic to pick me up now. The tremor that ran through me as a result made my voice breathy when I told Lynette, \u201cJust a sec.\u201d<\/p>\n

I managed to firm up my tone by the time I addressed Drake. \u201cLynette already has a key to my car and it\u2019s already scratched up from that mailbox I didn\u2019t quite clear last month. She barely has her license and your car is\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

Drake\u2019s car was new and shiny and part of the image he projected for his job. Executioner\u2014an alpha whose entire role was to be so imposing that even pack leaders toed the line of good behavior rather than risking his wrath.<\/p>\n

But Drake seemed to understand <\/span><\/span><\/span>a different point than the one I was making. \u201cMy car is armored,\u201d he rasped as if we were in complete agreement. Then, into the phone. \u201cGo now. Stay on the line until the car is moving. Don\u2019t stop driving until I call you back.\u201d<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

With the kids taken care of, I couldn\u2019t put off the secrets of my husband\u2019s grave any longer. But here too, Drake had other ideas.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll check it out,\u201d he offered as I eyed the bottom of the hole with the same sort of enthusiasm I\u2019d applied to Lynette\u2019s shopping-trip suggestion that I don head-to-toe spandex. The earthen walls weren\u2019t sheer, so it wasn\u2019t as if I risked getting stuck down there. I just wasn\u2019t quite ready to see whatever was underneath that askew lid.<\/p>\n

Still, I shook my head. \u201cNo. I need to do this.\u201d<\/p>\n

Drake growled very low but he didn\u2019t stop me. Just turned my phone into flashlight mode and handed it back so he could use his for its primary purpose\u2014communication.<\/p>\n

Over the month we\u2019d spent as part-time housemates and full-time co-guardians, I\u2019d come to learn that Drake preferred texting everyone other than me and Lynette. But he must have sensed my need for his piercing eyes to stay trained on me now because he dialed up his apprentice the same way I\u2019d contacted our ward.<\/p>\n

\u201cDrake,\u201d Kira answered, voice redolent with amusement I could almost smell as I picked my way down the sloping incline. I was glad of shifter hearing because interest in the conversation above me kept me from obsessing over<\/span><\/span><\/span> the coffin lid I was aiming for, a plain surface made of what appeared to be un-sanded <\/span><\/span><\/span>lumber roughly screwed together. The gap between lid and coffin was too narrow to peer through, but I wouldn\u2019t have to wrest the entire lid up to see what was going on inside. Because it appeared as if someone had already hacked one board free from the others, making it easy to access the end of the coffin closest to my feet.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet me guess,\u201d Kira continued, her perky voice a stark contrast to what I imagined lay beneath that loose board I should have moved out of the way already. \u201cYou\u2019re going to pull me away from date night to go strike fear into the hearts of scary werewolves with my wit and beauty.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cClose,\u201d Drake rasped. \u201cI need you to meet up with a car full of kids and bring them to the<\/span><\/span><\/span> Reed cemetery immediately.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, that\u2019s nearby at least,\u201d Kira answered. \u201cThink I can make it back in time for the second movie? It\u2019s a double-header tonight at the drive-in. You should come sometime. Bring your mate.\u201d<\/p>\n

I\u2019d already grabbed onto the loose board, which wasn\u2019t quite as loose as I\u2019d thought it would be. But my hand stilled, waiting for Drake\u2019s reply. Because Kira had misspoken. We weren\u2019t mates.<\/p>\n

I had only a single memory of a kiss between the two of us and that recollection was fuzzy around the edges, laid down before I started retaining<\/span><\/span><\/span> my memory at the break of each dawn. S<\/span><\/span><\/span>oon thereafter, I\u2019d made it clear that I wasn\u2019t ready for a romantic relationship and Drake hadn\u2019t pushed the issue.<\/p>\n

Still, even when he was out of town rather than just down the hall at Rosa\u2019s house, we\u2019d talked on the phone every night, ostensibly for Lynette\u2019s sake but often about topics that had nothing to do with our ward. Drake had dropped everything to meet me here even though he was in the middle of a job currently, and he\u2019d made no complaint when the hem of his expensive coat dragged in the dirt while protecting my back.<\/p>\n

So I didn\u2019t wiggle the board to free it from the earth that had slumped on top of it. Just crouched there inside my husband\u2019s grave and peered up at the alpha werewolf whose gaze, even from this distance, warmed me. His eyebrows shot up as if he was asking a question.<\/p>\n

I wasn\u2019t quite sure what I was agreeing to\u2014a simple double date or mating this man who enticed me so thoroughly I often forgot my reasons for not succumbing to his overtures. Either way, I nodded. And the scent of lemon-meringue pie abruptly overwhelmed the must of dirt and decay.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019d like that,\u201d Drake answered. \u201cLater. Right now, there are five scared kids in a car who require an armed escort.\u201d<\/p>\n

After that, he hung up and dialed Lynette again, giving her instructions on where to meet Kira while passing along the latter\u2019s number. And even though I longed to bask in the near contact of eyes focusing unwaveringly on me, I forced myself to focus on something very different.<\/p>\n

Now wasn\u2019t the time for basking. If I wanted to see what kind of future Drake and I might create together, I first needed to deal with the most unpleasant part of my past.<\/p>\n

To that end, I jerked the loose board a little harder. This time, it came free, allowing a cascade of dirt to spill down into the homemade coffin.<\/p>\n

I expected to find my dead husband\u2019s face there, or perhaps his skull. Rates of human decomposition weren\u2019t something I was intimately familiar with.<\/p>\n

What I found was worse. No face. No skull. No evidence at all that my murderous husband was dead.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

\u200bChapter 3<\/h1>\n

It wasn\u2019t the most rational reaction, but I abruptly needed <\/i>to know if this rough wooden box was a mere decoy. So I fell down onto my belly and thrust my arm through the opening where the board had been, straining into the darkness.<\/p>\n

Nothing. Nothing. <\/i>Then my fingers hit something hard and Ambrose\u2019s booming laugh carried previously forgotten memory back into full focus.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour blood is delicious.\u201d He\u2019d stood over me, one of the hundreds of glass vials he\u2019d carefully filled with a mixture of my blood plus a clear preservative pinched between thumb and forefinger. His lips were bloody from the taste he\u2019d already enjoyed and he didn\u2019t bother wiping away the red splattering his lips.<\/i><\/p>\n

\u201cWhy?\u201d I choked on the word, barely able to talk. I was so lightheaded. If I hadn\u2019t been lying down already, I would have fallen.<\/i><\/p>\n

\u201cLook.\u201d He spread his arms wide and I blinked, trying to focus. My husband\u2019s face seemed to shimmer slightly as if he was shifting to lupine form even though his shape remained resolutely human.<\/i><\/p>\n

Then I understood what was happening. The small wrinkles around his eyes were smoothing. The few streaks of white in his hair had returned to glossy brown.<\/i><\/p>\n

Ambrose was stealing my life to extend his own. And, given my marriage vow, there was nothing I could do about it.<\/i><\/p>\n

He laughed again, the sound deeper, more resonant. A hand landed on my shoulder\u2026<\/i><\/p>\n

Not in memory, in life. Ambrose was here<\/i>. He wanted to drain me dry again and\u2026<\/p>\n

Luckily,<\/span><\/span><\/span> I wasn\u2019t the innocent I\u2019d been last time. \u201cMy oath died with you!\u201d I gritted out.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t know if that was true but I wasn\u2019t waiting around to find out. I fumbled for the slit in my skirt, the one Lynette had come upon me sewing into place and proclaimed \u201csexy\u201d until she understood its purpose. The Velcro I\u2019d used to close the long gash ripped beneath my fingers. The knife I\u2019d strapped to my thigh was in my hands even as I spun to fight the man who\u2019d killed me once already.<\/p>\n

Grabbing the knife, however, had required dropping my phone. Face down on the earth, its glow provided only a tiny rim of light between the two of us. So all I could see was my enemy\u2019s massive size as he bent over me. All I could smell was the fur waiting beneath his skin.<\/p>\n

His huge hands were raised to the sky though. No wonder when my knife was at his throat. I\u2019d won this round.<\/p>\n

\u201cI shouldn\u2019t have touched you.\u201d<\/p>\n

The familiar rasp curled around me and I sucked in a gulp of air more frigid than it had been a moment earlier, not realizing until I did so that I\u2019d been holding my breath. \u201cDrake?\u201d<\/p>\n

The bulky shadow nodded, the motion working against my knife and cutting into his skin. I could smell his blood, just as salty as the liquid that had lined my husband\u2019s lips. My fingers trembled. My weapon tumbled down to join my cell phone.<\/p>\n

\u201cAmbrose Reed is dead,\u201d Drake continued as if he\u2019d read my mind. \u201cI saw him die and I\u2019ll prove he\u2019s gone.\u201d<\/p>\n

Over the next hour, Drake did exactly that.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

He began by ripping the first two boards loose with his bare hands, revealing the shoulders of a desiccated, headless skeleton. And when I still couldn\u2019t seem to stop shivering, he pulled out a multi-tool and worked every screw loose along the top of the coffin, revealing the rest of my husband\u2019s remains.<\/p>\n

Rotting clothes sagged over bones and connective tissue, dirt that had cascaded inside weighing down portions without obscuring the whole. Unless someone else had been put in this grave, I was indeed a widow.<\/p>\n

And Drake swore he\u2019d been personally responsible for transporting Ambrose\u2019s body across the country to return it to the Reed pack this past spring. \u201cPalms required greasing,\u201d he rasped. \u201cWe don\u2019t embalm our bodies and human laws can be difficult when crossing state lines.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you say he\u2019s dead, he\u2019s dead.\u201d Then I frowned, paying attention to the man in front of me at long last. \u201cI cut you.\u201d<\/p>\n

And, okay, so maybe I just wanted an excuse to touch someone alive and lemon-scented. After all, the thin line of red from my knife was already coagulating and clearly didn\u2019t require treatment. Still, I reached into the kitten-containing pocket and drew out the cloth handkerchief Drake always kept there, using it to dab at the wound I\u2019d created while lost in memory and fear.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot the first time.\u201d Drake\u2019s rasp vibrated through the cloth and into my fingers, completely eradicating fear of the past while warming the air around us. Perhaps it hadn\u2019t turned so unseasonably cold as suddenly as I\u2019d imagined. Perhaps I\u2019d just lingered too far from Drake\u2019s tantalizing heat.<\/p>\n

Which is how Lynette found us, arriving along with four young wolves and the apprentice Drake had called to collect them. The latter<\/span><\/span><\/span> shone a huge flashlight beam down on us while the largest wolf swiveled around to guard against anything coming up behind us out of the forest. And Lynette h<\/span><\/span><\/span>opped down into a hole that abruptly felt overcrowded.<\/span><\/span><\/span> Only quick reflexes managed to save Drake from a bloody nose as our ward saluted.<\/p>\n

\u201cReporting for duty. Which piece did the bas\u2026\u201d She coughed and seemed to change her mind about wording, cheeks pinking in a way that reminded me of myself in a modern fitting room. \u201cWhich piece did the grave robber<\/i> touch?\u201d<\/p>\n

The stumble over words made Lynette seem younger than she actually was, and I<\/span><\/span><\/span> opened my mouth to tell her she didn\u2019t need to do this. I hadn\u2019t thought through how having a teenager analyze an open grave might layer new traumatic memories atop old ones.<\/p>\n

\"SwordPlus, it wasn\u2019t as if the current mystery was pressing enough to require interrupting Lynette\u2019s newfound childhood. My husband was dead<\/i>. Whatever had happened to his grave wasn\u2019t important enough to mess with the normal life I was trying to create for our ward.<\/p>\n

But Drake, who never naysaid me, shook his head very slightly before wordlessly pointing Lynette\u2019s attention toward the single board that had been askew from the beginning. She reached out to touch it, taking advantage of scorchy fingers that also let her see fragments of the past when in contact with inanimate objects.<\/p>\n

Her eyes closed and her cheeks seemed to sink under the stark lighting from Kira\u2019s flashlight. Now Lynette looked nothing<\/span><\/span><\/span> like the kid we\u2019d left playing tag with young shifters. Instead, she was once again a young woman doing whatever she had to in order to survive.<\/p>\n

Involving her in this mess had been a terrible idea.<\/p>\n

Then Lynette\u2019s eyelashes twitched. And when she opened her eyes, it was me she spoke to. \u201cYou\u2019re not gonna like this.\u201d<\/p>\n

I already didn\u2019t like this. \u201cTell me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was Kami.\u201d Lynette rocked back on her heels, putting as much distance as she could between herself and the piece of wood she\u2019d been touching. \u201cShe dug up the grave and took dead dude\u2019s head.\u201d<\/p>\n

Keep reading in Wolf’s Curse!<\/em><\/strong><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

If you haven’t read Wolf Trap yet, this post contains spoilers!! Please stop reading now and grab your copy of book one while it’s marked down to 99 cents. Ready to continue Tru’s adventure? Read on… *** Chapter 1 There\u2019s nothing quite like grave robbing to ruin a first date. Not that Drake and I […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[49,167],"tags":[151,14,7,27,23,8],"class_list":["post-3284","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-excerpts-aimee-easterling","category-series-time-bites","tag-kitsune","tag-paranormal-books","tag-shifter-books","tag-urban-fantasy-books","tag-urban-paranormal-romantic-fantasy","tag-werewolf-books","post-preview"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/aimeeeasterling.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3284","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/aimeeeasterling.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/aimeeeasterling.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aimeeeasterling.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aimeeeasterling.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3284"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/aimeeeasterling.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3284\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3291,"href":"https:\/\/aimeeeasterling.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3284\/revisions\/3291"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/aimeeeasterling.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3284"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aimeeeasterling.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3284"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aimeeeasterling.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3284"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}