The Leopard Who Claimed A Wolf
When a wolf loves a leopard…
He’s her protector...
Caitlyn Fraser, a wereleopard who has always hated cruel werewolves, is the former prisoner turned mate of Dougal Sterling, Alpha of the Scottish pack. She’s courting jeopardy with her determination to attend the funeral of her brother’s father, since the Pack blames her for Alistair’s death. But still Dougal protects her from his wolves.
Short of allies, Dougal struggles to balance loyalty and attention between the Pack and Caitlyn. When the Pack’s stability crumbles, he’s faced with the return of his older brother, the rightful Alpha, who shirked his duty after their father’s death. However, Ewan’s challenge will be a battle to the death. Sheltering Caitlyn can only lose Dougal more friends, but he knows she’s the mate he’s longed for.
But survival takes two...
Menace lurks in every corner of the Highlands; Alistair and Ewan’s supporters and haters of shapeshifters abound. Caitlyn and Dougal must stick together, pushing back fiercely when they are attacked. Even if that puts them in mortal danger…
The driveway leading up to the Scottish Pack’s massive headquarters stretched almost half a mile. I rested my chin on my arms and stared out of the Alpha’s window on the second story, overlooking the circular section of the drive. The Pack’s castle came complete with its very own dungeon, but at least they weren’t keeping me in there anymore. Alistair’s craggy face loomed over me every time I closed my eyes, his fists hammering against my face, ribs, and stomach.
Tension radiated through my shoulders, and I balled my hands into fists. No, Alistair—Colin’s father—was dead. Dougal had protected me, and my brother, from that monster when I didn’t have the strength to fight back.
Not that it mattered.READ MORE
Two days had passed since my brother’s sudden departure. Now Colin was on his own, without anyone to watch his back. How could he leave without saying anything to me? I flexed my fists again, welcoming the anger as it bubbled up in my chest and replaced my sadness.
The heavy weight of a man’s hand descended on my back. I twisted around, my knuckles connecting with a solid jaw lined with dark, coarse stubble. A familiar jaw. Shite.
Dougal stumbled back half a step, but then he planted his feet like a tree with strong roots, not budging any further. Sharp power flared outward from him before he squelched it, stretching the muscles in his jaw. A frown tugged at his lips, and the corners of his eyes creased, either in pain or displeasure.
“Dougal! I’m so sorry.” The sudden movement of punching him had shot a searing ache through my battered ribs again. The pain stole my breath away, but I tried to force it down. How could I have been so careless? If he’d been anyone else in the Pack, I would’ve caused World War III.
“Dinnae fash. The punch bloody well hurt, though. I didn’t realize you were so strong.” Dougal’s frown melted away as he pulled me closer and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Seems like you’re recovering your strength.” His gaze drifted past me to the long gravel driveway of the estate. “How are you doing, love?”
The emotions I’d been stomping down now came bubbling up to the surface again. “I cannae believe Colin left me. He left before I even regained consciousness. How could he?” With anyone else, I wouldn’t show weakness, but I rested my forehead against Dougal’s chest, needing his touch and savoring his warmth. “I barely got a chance to talk with him, and when I did, it wasn’t a good time to ask how he was doing after the months he’d spent in that bloody research facility—or even to ask where he was going to go to heal…”
Tears welled in my eyes, but I held them back, refusing to cry. “I gave up so much—my job, my flat, my life—while trying to track him down and bring him home. What if my sacrifices were all for naught?”
“Nae, they weren’t for naught, love.” Dougal kissed the top of my head. “I know you’re hurting. You have plenty of reasons to be, but the man who came back wasn’t the same one who left for the United States.” He lifted my chin, forcing me to see the sincerity in his clear blue eyes. “Whatever those scientists did affected him in ways neither of us will likely ever know. Waiting at the window won’t make him return any sooner.” He wrapped his arms around me and gently pulled me against his chest again. “Let me draw you a bath. Remember, I’m here if you need to talk.”
He was right, even if I didn’t want to admit it. Waiting at the window for Colin’s return wouldn’t help, but what else could I do? “I know, but that doesn’t make this any easier for me. He’s my younger brother. I feel helpless that I cannae be there for him…again.” A heavy ached settled on my heart, and I pulled away hating the awkward emotions crushing me. “Sorry.”
Dougal turned away from me and stared out of the window again. His jaw clenched and unclenched, as if he were trying hard to hold in his words. A lot was going on in his life too, and yet he was making a strong effort to support me through my problems. Things had become increasingly strained between him and his Pack since my arrival and Duncan and Alistair’s subsequent deaths. He didn’t talk about what he faced, and I didn’t want to pressure him.
After a few moments of silence, he released a sigh and turned back toward me. “You’ve done what you could for him, lass.” The ghost of a grin spread across his lips. “Would you still like the bath?”
I couldn’t help but nod. When I’d awakened from unconsciousness, Dougal had been there for me. We’d made love, and he brought me to new heights of pleasure. We also became intimately acquainted with the fancy Jacuzzi bathtub that could likely fit three or four humans…or one big, scary werewolf. The perks of being mated to the Alpha of the Scottish Pack.
“Aye, a bath sounds delish.” I wrapped my arms around his waist, bringing him back to me and drawing in his musky lupine scent. “Thanks for the talk. I really wish I could’ve spoken with him before he left. It would’ve made me feel better about him going.”
“Love, I talked with him before he left.” He trailed his fingertips over my back in light, soothing strokes. “If I wasn’t confident that he presented no danger to others, I wouldn’t have let him go. He would’ve stayed here whether he favored the idea or not.” The muscles in his lower back tensed beneath my touch, and his hand paused over my spine.
Something didn’t feel right. I lifted my gaze to meet Dougal’s. Was he not telling me something? We hadn’t known each other for long, but my sharp, feline instincts knew when someone told an untruth. He wasn’t outright lying to me, but he was holding something back. What could it be?
I bit my lower lip, instantly regretting it as my teeth sank into one of the nearly healed spots where Alistair had punched me in the face. Instead of confronting Dougal, I turned my attention toward the window. “You would tell me if he was dangerous to himself, wouldn’t you?”
“Aye, I would.” His tone of voice wasn’t as convincing as I’d wanted. He leaned away, putting me at arm’s length. “Enough of that, I suppose. I’ll draw the bath for you.” Without another word, he strode to the en-suite bathroom. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides all the way. The door snapped shut behind him, and he started the water running a few moments later.
Nausea churned inside me, and I held my stomach. Should I actually believe Dougal? Something about his words didn’t feel right. The Jacuzzi tub would take a few minutes to fill, and I needed to get out of this bloody bedroom and away from him. The strain of standing there and trying to keep myself calm was becoming too much.
My stomach growled, and I glanced up at the round wrought-iron clock on the wall. It was almost one o’clock in the afternoon.
Many of the werewolves didn’t like that their Alpha was mating with a wereleopard, so I usually skipped the mealtime rushes in an attempt to keep my distance. It wasn’t easy, because several of the wolves lived here in this honest-to-God castle full time. Apparently, that was how many Packs operated. The thought boggled my mind. How did they stand to be around one another all the time? How would I survive being the sole feline in this house full of wolves?
Every urge for solitude within me roared to run as fast and as far away from this place as I could. Too much held me here, though. Besides, if Colin returned from his trip, I wanted to be around to greet him. Maybe throttle him, too, but it’d be a greeting nonetheless…
I slid my leather jacket on over the white tank top, not wanting to reveal too much bruised skin, then headed for the kitchen to grab some leftovers. Dougal had tried to convince me to eat with him and everyone else. He wanted me to get to know the wolves and socialize. Getting friendly with the Pack might be a nice idea, but I couldn’t do it. Not with how his Pack watched me when they thought I wasn’t looking. Even Dougal’s second-in-command wasn’t a fan of mine. The sentiment was mutual, really. For as long as I could remember, I’d hated werewolves. One of my main reasons would soon be resting six feet underground. Their hatred of me for Alistair’s death just added to my reluctance to get to know them.
Shaking away those thoughts, I turned the corner to enter the kitchen. If my sharp feline reflexes hadn’t kicked in, I would’ve run straight into a towering werewolf. I leapt back at the last minute to prevent Kerr from spilling his plate of food. The already agonizing ache in my side intensified from moving so quickly, but I kept my arms at my sides and my face neutral.
“Afternoon, lass. Ye look like yer recoverin’ well.” Kerr nodded, looking more than a little curiously at me.
“Thanks, Kerr. I’m trying.” I flashed him an uncomfortable smile, then edged past the broad, barrel-chested man into the kitchen. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as the others, but I couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling that he strongly disagreed with Dougal’s decision to mate with me.
Kerr placed a heavy hand on my shoulder. My spine stiffened, and I tightly gripped the sleeves of my jacket to keep from swinging on him too. “Keep tryin’, then.” His deep voice rumbled through the kitchen. I glanced pointedly at his hand, but he didn’t move it. “Sooner or later ye need to overcome yer fear, hatred, or whatever it is ye feel toward my kind. If ye cannae, ye won’t last long here, lass.” With that, he walked toward the massive grand hall down the corridor, where the wolves held their meetings and ate.
My shoulders slumped. Suddenly, I didn’t feel so hungry, but my leopard still needed to be fed. We couldn’t skip any more meals. It hindered our healing process and weakened us too much. Right now, I couldn’t afford weakness, not while I was amongst a pack of wolves.
If only I didn’t have to be constantly looking over my shoulder with the Pack but such was life for now.
Shite. I didn’t have much time before Dougal noticed I was gone.
The leftovers were neatly arranged on the clean counter top. There wasn’t much food left, but I grabbed a bag of crisps and one of the last club sandwiches. One of the female wolves—Mairi, I think—ran a catering company, so she always brought by food to keep the Pack well fed. She was one of the nicer wolves.
Instead of following Kerr toward the dining room, where I was sure to find the rowdy werewolves laughing and talking, I remained in the kitchen. I sat on the counter farthest away from the entrance, hidden from anyone who might walk by.
As I finished up my sandwich, footsteps in the hall became louder as someone approached the kitchen. The sound of soft sniffing tensed every muscle in my body, then Dougal stepped into the room. His gaze slid over me, and desire darkened his blue eyes.
“Your bath is ready. If I’d known you were hungry, I would’ve brought something earlier when I ate.”
I shrugged a shoulder. “It’s all right. I’m eating now.”
“Aye, so you are.” He looked down the hallway as if checking to make sure no one else was near. When he turned back to me, he wore a frown that creased the corners of his lips and eyes. “You shouldn’t be in here all alone, love. Things are tense right now within the Pack. Let’s go back to the bedroom.”
I tilted my chin up, not in the mood to be bossed around again. “I’m not alone. You’re here.” I opened the bag of crisps and munched on one.
His nostrils flared, and he crossed his arms over his broad chest. The move might’ve been scary as hell if it wasn’t him doing it. “That’s not the point. Come on.”
Bloody hell. First I’d been his prisoner in the cage, and now I’d become a prisoner in his bedroom. Not in a fun way, either. Why was this happening?
I clenched my fists, crushing a few of my crisps as tears burned in my eyes, but I refused to let them show. The flood of emotions I’d experienced over the past week was becoming too much to all push down at once. As soon as I dealt with certain fears or emotions, others popped up to take their place, like some horrible version of whack-a-mole.
Life just wasn’t fair. All I’d wanted to do was return to Scotland to be here for my brother. In that time, I’d been reintroduced to a childhood nightmare, imprisoned in a dungeon, and now I was the prisoner/mate of a werewolf Alpha. When would the roller coaster end?
Dougal crossed the space between us in a few long strides. He pulled me from the counter into his arms.
A feline hiss ripped from my throat, sounding every bit as feral as I felt. Once again, anger rescued me from my moodiness. “Set me down this minute!”COLLAPSE
The Selkie Who Loved A Wolf
Love heals even the deepest wounds…
The wounded werewolf…
After being held in captivity by scientists for months, Colin Fraser needs rest and recuperation. The Scottish Highlands offer him the perfect place to get much-needed distance from the world and repair the bond with his inner beast.
The selkie’s search…
Unna Mikkelsen is being urged to mate with a selkie man she doesn’t care for. But she’ll never forget how, as a young girl, she saw her mother taken by a fisherman. Knowing she must make her peace with the world above the waves, she leaves the deep for dry land—even though this means she’s putting herself into danger.
The power of immortal love…
When Colin notices Unna in the pub, he realizes there’s more to her than meets the eye. But he fights his feelings for her—how can a wolf as broken as he is have a relationship? Little does he know Unna will need him when her pelt is stolen by a fisherman, causing her to relive her childhood trauma. Or how much he’ll need her too, because only her love can heal his wounds…
Almost a week had passed since the Southeastern Pack had rescued me from that bloody research facility. Memories of being locked in a cage and prodded with needles like some science experiment still haunted me. As much as I tried, my thoughts continually returned to the horror I’d gone through. Chad Fitzroy had been generous to let me leave even though his father, the Pack’s Alpha, wanted all available werewolves on guard in case they faced retaliation from whoever was behind that hellhole. From what I’d heard, no one was certain whether the government had led the project or if it had been a group of mad scientists. When I’d been there, they hadn’t said much within my hearing. I hadn’t really cared who was in charge because I was sure I wouldn’t live long enough for it to matter.READ MORE
My hands trembled as I took another swig of Scotch ale, despite it being seven o’clock in the morning. I’d hoped getting away from the world would make my problems easier to cope with, but I was at my breaking point. Alcohol dulled my pain and lessened my worries. It didn’t stop them, though. Every time I closed my eyes, I relived the terror of being locked up in that damned cage. None of this—the alcohol, the stress, the nightmares—helped the incredibly shaky control I had over my wolf. If I didn’t regain my composure soon, I feared I would become more beast than man. The scariest part was I’d seen a Pack member go rogue before. The Scottish Pack had killed the wolf to protect our secret, and also to let the beast finally have solace. I pushed those thoughts aside, not wanting to dwell on what could happen if I didn’t get my act together.
Silence weighed on the cottage like a thick blanket. My ears perked at each soft sound. The idyllic daydream I’d had of renewing the bond with my beast seemed to drift farther and farther away. How could I relax when it was hard enough to just breathe? For months on end, I’d stayed alert and on edge, always watching and waiting for some bastard in a lab coat to hurt me. Regardless of the distance, I didn’t feel much different now. Being away from civilization—for the most part—in the peaceful Scottish Highlands seemed surreal. I wondered if the quiet and calm were worse for my nerves than the bustle of Edinburgh had been.
The cottage I’d rented was a fair bit from the nearest village’s sparse population. I’d planned this trip to give me a good shot at taming my beast without too many bystanders. The last thing I needed was to be the reason werewolves were revealed to the world at large. If anyone found out what I was, I’d have to kill them, and if I did, I greatly feared for my humanity. Would my wolf finally take over? Would the Pack…
Leaning back in the kitchen chair, I pressed the cool, dark-brown bottle of ale to my forehead, trying to get myself under control. Deep breaths… I took a few calming breaths, then gulped down some more ale. My racing heart rate steadied. I placed the bottle back on the table, but I didn’t take my hand away from the comfort of its presence.
Coming home to Scotland had been bittersweet. My intention was to spend time reconnecting with my wereleopard half-sister, Caitlyn, as I regained my composure and sanity. But my late father, whom I’d always been told was a good man—and dead—had ruined my plans. Bloody monster. That had pushed me over the edge, but I gained a new respect for my sister, knowing the pain she’d been through as a wee lass at his hands. She’d put on a brave face to protect me, but I couldn’t help feeling a little betrayed. Either she or our mother should’ve been honest with me. Instead, they’d let me spend most of my life loving some woman-abusing arsehole. My hand trembled around the bottle.
Leaving Caitlyn in her weakened condition was brutal, but if I’d stayed, I would have put the Scottish Pack—and most importantly, her—at risk. I didn’t like feeling as if I would snap at any given moment. My fragile control over my beast left me vulnerable, especially with all that had happened recently. When I was in Edinburgh, my focus had been solely on keeping my sister safe. I refused to let her see how torn apart I was now. Dougal’s passionate glances told me he’d try to protect her, but the lass had no idea what she’d gotten herself into by falling for the Alpha.
I clenched my hands into fists, and the bottle of Scotch ale shattered. Pain bit my palm as alcohol seeped into the wounds. Opening my fist, I frowned at the large shard of brown glass protruding from my skin. Shite, what a waste of perfectly good ale.
Crimson blood mixed with ale and dripped onto the floor. If I didn’t take care of the mess, the cottage’s owner might think to ask questions about my stay. This needed to be cleaned straight away. My hand didn’t worry me all that much. It’d be fine. With my supernatural healing, I’d survived a hell of a lot worse.
If only that healing helped my mind...
I cupped my wounded hand to my chest palm-up to try to slow the bleeding, then stepped over the broken glass in my now-damp socks to reach the kitchen sink. The window’s distant seaside view, with its jagged cliffs and sweeping waves, struck pride in my heart, and I remembered again just why I’d come back to my homeland. Caitlyn and I had visited a place not far from here for some time as kids. It’d been one of my favorite memories as a young lad. Our mother kept us on the move growing up, never settling down for long. Now I knew why.
The ache in my hand tugged me back to the present. Yanking the large piece of glass from my palm wouldn’t be fun, but it needed to be done. The skin around the wound was already trying to heal. If I didn’t get the glass out soon, it would hurt much more than it did now. The shard was buried deep, nearly penetrating all the way through to the other side. If I were human, I’d have needed immediate medical attention.
I firmly pinched the glass with the hem of my shirt, between my thumb and index finger. My grip on the sharp shard slipped the first time, but on the second try, I jerked the fragment out of my hand, leaving a long gash behind. A new rush of agony ripped at my palm. Blood poured from the wound, no longer held back by the glass. I held my hand over the sink, letting the drain drink the thick red liquid as I searched the nearby cupboards for a first-aid kit. The kit was rather dusty, but it contained plenty of gauze to wrap the wound.
The chunk of glass had come out fairly smoothly, so I wasn’t worried about any fragments getting left behind in my hand. My lycanthropy would likely push the foreign object from my body anyway, as it had done with a bullet once. I’d been a stupid teenager who thought more about impressing a female werewolf than keeping an eye out for an old farmer protecting his livestock. I learned my lesson. Particularly since, as punishment, I’d been locked for a full month and a half in the same cage where Caitlyn had been held.
I turned on the faucet, rinsing the open wound before I patted it dry with a formerly white towel that hung on a hook by the sink. I’d do what I could to clean it up, but I wasn’t very domesticated. Tasks like that were a bit outside my area of expertise. Maybe the towel would just ‘go missing.’ I’d rather that than have the owner see it stained.
Once I’d wrapped the wound with a respectable amount of gauze, I opened the cupboard below the sink to inspect what cleaning agents the owner provided her tenants. I needed something that could clean up the blood and ale that had spilled all over the floor. I grabbed the bleach and set it on the counter. The scent hit my nostrils like a boxer’s right hook, my mind flashing back to the overwhelming scent I’d endured at the laboratory. Panic rose within me like a massive wave. I stumbled away from the counter, slipped on the blood and booze, and fell on my arse.
The world faded away.
LOVE IT!!! This all howls "READ ME NOW" and is only made PAWSSIBLE, only works together because of one reason - Sarah Makela is one FURRIFICALLY talented author!!
The Witch Who Cried Wolf
Be careful what you wish for...
A potion gone wrong: Mia Brooks is a reluctant witch, with powers that she tries to hold in check. But when her magic gets mixed up, supernatural forces are unleashed and suddenly she’s being pursued by werewolves—that she didn’t even realize existed...
Hidden emotions: Ethan Parker, Mia’s brother’s best friend, is home from deployment for the holidays. Mia’s not only hiding from werewolves, she’s trying to keep her feelings for Ethan secret; it would be a disaster if he knew she’s been nursing a long-time crush…
The power of love: Things take a terrifying turn when Mia and Ethan are attacked by a werewolf. Ethan is amazed when Mia reveals her paranormal prowess as she tries to shield them from danger. But can she really protect them from the darkness that lurks? And how can he tell her that, for ages, he’s been denying what he really wants? Mia...
Jessa’s New Age shop—Eternally Magick—was empty. Usually, Jessa was around. But, right now, she wasn’t. I leaned against the front counter, resting my forehead against the cool glass. Athames, crystals, jewelry and really cute dragon statues were locked in the case beneath my fingertips. While I enjoyed hanging out at the shop and seeing what new potions were available, I wished Jessa had given me some kind of clue as to why she wanted me here. But she was my best friend and mentor; the reason had to be important, if for nothing else to spend much needed time together.
I glanced over my shoulder at the wall of ingredients lining the shelves, ripe for the picking. It had been a while since I’d made a new potion. Maybe if I could stock up on a few things...
“Not what you’re here for,” I whispered to myself. The urge to see what she had nearly drove me away from the counter, but I held myself in check.READ MORE
Making potions was one of my hobbies. I loved the creativity and excitement that went into building something from nothing, and the brief connection with my power.
Tapping my fingers on the counter, I stared at the curtained-off backroom. Worry crept into my chest. Why wasn’t Jessa here? She never stood me up. This wasn’t like her.
“Jessa?” Usually she came right out when the bells on the door chimed. Biting my lower lip, I considered going into the back. Someone could steal things without her keeping an eye on the store.
“Coming,” Jessa called. The black-haired and blue-eyed beauty swept into the front of the store like a hurricane of flowing skirts. She always looked like she’d just come from a Renaissance faire.
I loved the way she dressed, but I knew that style would never be my thing. My parents would think I’d flipped my lid, and my older brother.... Shudder. Nolan would laugh at me, probably joking with his best friend—and my crush since forever—Ethan Parker.
“Where have you been? I was getting concerned.” Stepping around the counter, I wrapped my arms around her and she embraced me in a hug smelling of lavender and honey.
“Just in the back. I had to wrap up a call and I guess I didn’t hear you come in.” Jessa smiled, but something was up. She appeared a bit too eager to pretend everything was fine.
“What’s going on? Are you okay?” I placed my hand on her shoulder, trying to be comforting.
The door chimed, and we turned in unison toward the shop’s new arrival.
I blinked in surprise.
The man towered in the doorway, over six feet of pure muscle. If his shirt were a little tighter, I probably would’ve been able to see six-pack abs through it. What was he doing here?
He strode in as if he owned the place. There could be no doubt: ladies would drop their panties at his command. If I didn’t have a boyfriend.... Stop it, Mia!
“I’m looking for the owner,” the man said, his deep voice as smooth and sinful as his looks. Yet beneath his delicious exterior, something about him put me on edge. The hint of arrogance in his eyes and the sharp flare of power as he walked in the room were instant triggers. This guy wasn’t a mere mortal. He was something else, but I couldn’t put my finger on what. Aside from Jessa, I’d never met anyone else with this level of power.
Maybe I needed to get out more.
Jessa cleared her throat, as captivated by him as I was by the sound of it. “I’m the owner.” Her voice hit all the sultry tones and she swayed her shoulders. “Can I help you?” I wished I could pull her aside and tell her my feelings, but that would look way too awkward.
“We spoke over the phone. I’m interested in the potion.” He leaned his hip against the counter, standing only a couple feet away. Too close for comfort.
Since Jessa had business to take care of, I sidestepped toward the wall of ingredients, but Jessa grabbed my wrist, keeping me beside her. I cast her a dirty look, but she didn’t pay me any attention, focusing her gaze instead on Mr. Way-Too-Sexy.
“Right, I don’t have any of that in right now, but this woman makes some of the best healing salves I’ve seen.” Jessa nudged me forward, nearly throwing me into Mr. Sexy’s arms.
Glancing up his body to his eyes from so close strained my neck. My five-foot-six frame probably looked tiny beside him. An overwhelming sense of lust and intimidation washed over me.
“Hi.” I fought against a shiver.
Mr. Sexy’s lips twitched. “The potion? Or...salve? Can you help me, or not?”
I looked behind me, noticing how Jessa was ‘busy’ tidying a few shelves that were perfectly fine. A small smirk tugged at her lips.
“Sure, I can help. What exactly do you need?” Healing potions? This was great, just great. He didn’t even know what he needed, nor did he know the differences between potions, salves or poultices. Not that many people outside of the metaphysical community did, but that wasn’t my fault. Besides, there were plenty of ways to do them. It didn’t help to say healing potion. I knew some concoctions that cured the flu, helped with burns, even helped with migraines.
The man cocked an eyebrow at me as if I was stupid. “A...healing salve. Are you serious? I’ve told you what I need.”
Jessa placed her hand on my shoulder. “What she means is, what does it need to do?” She pursed her lips, running her gaze over the man. “On the phone, you said that someone you know had some kind of...poisoning?”
While I enjoyed making potions and other healing remedies, I couldn’t help but wonder why this guy wasn’t taking his friend to a hospital or doctor instead.
Mr. Sexy scratched the back of his neck, causing his shirt to lift. My gaze skimmed his navel and part of the defined six-pack I’d known was hiding there. Somehow, knowing how hot he was under his shirt calmed my nerves a little. Surely, he was fine.
Maybe it’d just been a long time since I’d met a nice looking guy who wasn’t a jerk, and didn’t just storm off to join the military when I needed him. But...I was so not going to think about Ethan right now.
“Right. Not food poisoning. Lead poisoning.” Something flickered in his eyes. What was he hiding? “My friend was injured when the metal got into his system, so if there’s something you could put in to help with that, too.”
Jessa nodded, a frown tugging at her lips. “We can help. Have you taken him to the hospital?”
Mr. Sexy narrowed his eyes first at her, then he slid his gaze to me. “He’s more into the holistic, alternative approach to medicine. He’s assured me that if this doesn’t work, he’ll go to the doctor.” With another caress of his gaze over my body, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Think you can handle it, princess?”
My jaw dropped. For a moment, I couldn’t believe he was both checking me out and kind of insulting me. “Yeah, I know a recipe. I’ll just get the ingredients and head home. When do you need it by?” That was stupid question. He’d just told me his friend was injured. There wasn’t time for me to mess around. “Sorry, I can drop it back by a little later.”
“Why can’t you do it here and now?” Irritation hardened the set of his jaw.
Jessa jumped in before I could say anything. “While we have the ingredients to make the salve, she would need her supplies.” She waved her hand around the store. “I don’t have everything here. Usually—”
“That’s fine. I’ll be back before the store closes. That’s a couple hours from now, correct?” At Jessa’s nod, Mr. Sexy turned on his heel and was gone before she could say anything, the bells chiming in his wake.COLLAPSE
Teresa T. on The Romance Studio wrote:
The Witch Who Cried Wolf was an enjoyable and fast paced read. I’ve always enjoyed books that dealt with the supernatural so this was right up my alley!
Evampire on Night Owl Reviews wrote:
Ms. Mäkelä has given us a wild and romantic story with plenty of suspense, magic and surprises to keep us enthralled. I can’t wait to read what she will give us in the next book!
The first book in the new adult series Cry Wolf is an intriguing short and fast paranormal romance with witches and wolves. The author has packed a lot of punch in this short and fascinating story that had me in its grip until the very end.