First Beast
by
Faye Avalon
@faye_avalon
Book Blurb:
To protect his pack, he must guard his
heart.
Lost on Bodmin Moor, twelve-year-old Talia
Summers was cold, hurt and terrified, before being saved by a black panther
that materialized out of the night.
Years later, Talia returns to the moor in
search of that magnificent beast, but instead finds a man leading a clan of
shape shifters. Yet the connection she remembers is strangely absent. She
despairs of ever finding it again—until a stranger steps into her shower.
Back to claim his rightful place, Caleb
McLeod’s fierce attraction to his half-brother’s female is tempered by the fact
she’s a human. Worse, a journalist. He’ll not have his people’s survival
threatened by a human female who continually pushes the boundaries of pack
rules.
His solution? Mate with her. Control her.
And if his brother doesn’t like it, they’ll simply have to share. For now.
But suspicion and lies threaten the growing
bond between Talia and Caleb, and the past has a way of catching up. A way of
destroying the bridge built between two worlds…between two hearts.
Beasts of Bodmin Moor, Book 1
Product Warnings
A red-hot panther shifter with an
over-the-top possessive streak, a human reporter trying desperately to retain
her independence, and enough sexual heat to set fire to the moors of
Cornwall.
Buy Links:
Samhain Publishing: https://www.samhainpublishing.com/book/5660/first-beast
Nook: http://bit.ly/1PUTE0u
All Romance eBooks: http://bit.ly/1O0TGhG
Excerpt:
Since she’d deliberately gotten home early,
Talia headed straight to the kitchen to put lasagna in the oven. She intended
to make the evening special, to make up for some of the tension between her and
Joshua.
Since the day was hot, unbearably so, she
headed to the shower.
She’d expected Josh to be home, but wasn’t
overly worried. He’d likely taken himself off to the moor and hadn’t yet gotten
her text asking him to join her.
Thinking it might bring them closer if he’d
shared that part of himself, Talia had once asked him to shift in front of her,
but he’d steadfastly refused. It was his time, he’d said. Something he couldn’t
share with anyone, even her.
Many times when she woke in the night he
would be gone. On his return, he’d often wake her and they would make love. Lately,
he’d come home with a restless energy. She’d feel him slide into bed, turn over
and slip into a troubled sleep.
Maybe it was all part of being a
shapeshifter. Something to do with the phases of the moon.
She stripped off her work clothes, put the
shower on cool, and stepped beneath the spray. Closing her eyes, she enjoyed
the feel of the water against her skin and let the tension of the day slide off
her shoulders.
Over the spray of water, she heard the
click of the back door. Joshua was home. She didn’t call out. He’d hear the
shower soon enough, and by the time he reached the bathroom he would have
stripped out of his clothes.
How was it that all their problems seemed
to fall away when they had sex? Here, they were compatible. Here, they saw eye
to eye.
So why did she still crave something that
possibly didn’t even exist?
Unbidden, her thoughts slipped back to that
night she’d gotten lost on the moor. Why in heaven was she thinking about it so
often these days? It was as if something called to her, made her more aware of
her longing for what she’d experienced back then. Josh had been a young
panther, he’d told her, running solo for the first time. Most of his kind
didn’t experience shifting until they reached puberty, and they had to run with
more experienced members until they learned the secrets and challenges of the
moor.
She’d been so desperate to learn more, to
talk to him about that night and how much it had meant to her, but he was
always circumspect. Probably because shifters weren’t supposed to talk about
their experiences on the moor, especially not with humans.
Pushing the thoughts away, she continued to
soap herself, anticipating the moment the bathroom door would open and Joshua
would stand there in all his glory and ready to play. With her free hand, she
reached out and rubbed at the steamy shower screen, giving herself a clear
window through which she would be able to see him. She could hear his
footsteps—weird how attuned she was becoming to sound, scent and vision. It was
almost as if her own senses had sharpened since she’d mated with a shifter.
Perhaps that was a side effect? She’d have to check it out with Joshua. That
was, if he’d be willing to discuss it.
The footsteps seemed to wander from room to
room, and she speculated as to what particular game Joshua was playing. Had he
thought of yet another inventive way to string out the anticipation? To make
her wait for him so that she was so hot by the time he reached her that she’d
be desperate to jump him?
She’d be damned if she’d call out to him,
because that was probably one of his intentions. Instead, she kept her mouth
shut and determined to play whatever game they were in the middle of. She
unhooked the shower attachment, and held it ready at chest level, so that when
he opened the door to the shower cubicle, she’d be in the perfect position to
blast him.
She bit down on her bottom lip. Denied the
warmth of the shower water, she shivered from both the cool air on her flesh
and the thought of what was to come. Knowing Josh, he’d be pissed when she
drenched him, but a pissed and aroused Joshua was often a joy to behold.
The footsteps grew louder and seconds
later, the slow squeak of the door signaled his arrival. Since her peephole had
steamed up again, she couldn’t see him, but smiled as the dark shadow
approached the cubicle door. She hummed softly, sashayed a little, so that he’d
think she was unaware of his presence and was simply enjoying her shower.
The shadow remained outside the door,
perfectly still and strangely menacing. Something niggled, seeming a little
off. Did Josh seem taller, broader? She mentally nudged it away as a trick of
the light, and possibly her own arousal. But goose-bumps lifted the tiny hairs
on her arms and she gripped the showerhead tighter.
Without warning, the cubicle door swung
open and Talia had the breath knocked out of her momentarily as the cold snap
of air whooshed into the small space. Narrowing her eyes, she raised the
showerhead and let the spray hit Josh full in the face.
“What the hell?”
The deep curse that echoed around the
bathroom and the strong hand that clasped her wrist belonged not to her
husband, but some brute of a man who towered over her while she stood naked and
trembling.
“Who…what do you think you’re d-doing?”
With his free hand, he wiped his drenched
face. “My question exactly, sweetheart.”
His deep green eyes glared at her, his grip
tightening around her wrist so that she dropped the showerhead to the floor. In
the process, it sprayed them both with water, soaking his dark gray T-shirt and
jeans. It earned her another dark curse.
She tried to scream, but nothing came out.
So she did the next best thing. She fought. Kicking, hitting out with her free
hand, and meeting nothing but rock-solid muscle.
“Get out!” She lashed out once more,
tugging furiously at his grip on her and trying in vain to get free of him. Her
breath backed up in her lungs, all her muscles tight and trembling. “Let go of
me!”
He wiped his face again, the lower part of
it sporting dark stubble. Talia let her gaze skim over him, trying to memorize
his features for when she had to give a description to the police. God. He was
built like a truck. His neck alone would rival the span of her waist, while his
chest rippled and heaved beneath the soaked shirt.
Suddenly aware of her nakedness, she ceased
her perusal. “If you don’t let go of me, I’ll scream. So help me, I’ll scream
loud enough to wake the dead.”
He only grinned at that, yet there was
little humor in it. Feral, she thought dazedly. He reminded her of a determined
predator…
Bloody hell. Was he a shifter? A member of
a visiting pack? It seemed to happen pretty frequently, but from what she knew,
they didn’t engage in breaking and entering.
The thought that this man might be a
shifter terrified her. She knew of their strength, of their power. Of their
primal charm and charisma…which had to explain the sudden resurgence of arousal
that powered through her trembling body.
“Go ahead and scream. There’s nobody around
to hear you.”
He was right, of course, and she shivered
with alarm. Most of their neighbors were at work, and the house itself was on
the edge of the moor, its strategic position giving the pack’s leader both
status and tactical strength.
She raised her chin and made herself stare
him straight in the eye. “You don’t scare me.”
Another feral grin. “Is that so?” He
glanced insolently down at her breasts and the hard, pebbled nipples that rose
to attention. “But it sure looks like I do something to you, sweetheart.”
She gasped, and he abruptly released his
hold on her and stepped back. Since he was still blocking her exit from the
cubicle, Talia couldn’t reach the towel she’d placed on the railing outside
without brushing her body against him. She crossed one arm to cover her
breasts, then reached down to palm her hand over her center.
When he glanced to where her hands were
purposefully placed, she suffered the punch of his assessing gaze and felt more
naked than ever.
“If you leave now, I won’t report you,” she
stated, thankful that her voice had regained some of its authority. “Just go.”
In answer, he raised his arm over his head
and grabbed the back of his sodden shirt. Effortlessly, he shrugged it off and
dropped it to the floor.
Eyeing his chest, Talia swallowed. She’d
thought Joshua’s chest was ripped, but this man’s was something else. Scars
scored the wide expanse of hard, solid muscle, crisscrossing as if someone had
planned to create a specific pattern there. But they did little to mar the
sheer masculine perfection of his upper body. Down the right side of his torso,
a deeper, angrier-looking scar traveled from his ribcage to disappear beneath
his jeans.
So lost in her heady examination, she
didn’t realize he’d moved closer to her.
She jerked back, flattening herself against
the cubicle wall. “Don’t you dare touch me.”
He spared her a glance. “Just undertaking
some damage control. If my jeans get any wetter, I’ll need to ditch them, then
there’ll be two of us naked in this shower.” He reached around her to turn off
the faucet. “From your overreaction so far, I’m not sure you’d be too happy
about that.”
“My overreaction?” The absolute nerve of
the jerk. “You’ve barged in here, threatened me—”
“Wasn’t aware I’d done anything to you.”
She half expected him to add yet, but he
strolled across to the railing and picked up the towel she’d placed there. He
tossed it to her, making her almost giddy with relief. If he was going to let
her dry herself, surely his intentions weren’t quite as dishonorable as she’d
feared.
She wrapped the towel tightly around
herself, keeping her gaze firmly on him. He went over to the rack and selected
another towel with which he proceeded to dry himself.
Her fears shot into orbit again when he
positioned himself in front of the bathroom door, effectively barring her
escape the way he had in the cubicle. Gingerly, she stepped out. If she could
at least get access to the bathroom cabinet, she might be able to select
something to use as a weapon.
“What’s your name?”
The question took her by surprise and she
jerked her chin toward him. “I should be asking you that. So I know who to
report when I make my statement to the police.”
Perhaps in retrospect, she shouldn’t
antagonize him, but the nerve of the man. Breaking into her home, terrorizing
her, demanding to know her name as if she were the intruder.
He laughed. “And just how many arrests has
old Bill Tucker made recently?”
“You know him?”
“Since I was a kid. And if we’re talking
arrests, maybe I should be the one pressing charges.”
“I don’t know what you mean. Now will you
please stand aside and let me out of this bathroom?”
He threw the damp towel onto a nearby
chair. “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart. At least not until you answer my
question.”
Since he’d planted his feet and crossed his
arms over his massive chest, Talia swallowed down fresh tension. “What…what
question?”
“Just what the hell are you doing in my
house?”
Author Bio:
Faye Avalon enjoys writing sexy stories
about strong men and the savvy women who rock their world. She has taken a
roundabout journey toward her writing career, working as cabin crew, detouring
into property development, public relations and education, before finally
finding her passion: writing spicy romantic fiction.
Faye lives with her super-ace husband and
one beloved, ridiculously spoiled dog. They regularly expand their family by
boarding puppies destined to become guide dogs. Between writing, reading,
running around after manic puppies and grabbing some quality time with her
husband, Faye enjoys a challenging yoga session or a night at the movies.
Visit her at www.fayeavalon.com or on
Twitter and Facebook.
Social Links:
Website:
http://www.fayeavalon.com
Twitter: @faye_avalon
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/faye.avalon.1
Pinterest: https://uk.pinterest.com/fayeavalon1/
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© 2000-2016 Muffy Wilson [Muffy@MuffyWilson.com] All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.
© 2000-2016 Muffy Wilson [Muffy@MuffyWilson.com] All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.
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I was born when we kissed; I died when we parted. I lived in your embrace while we loved..........