Saturday, February 25, 2017
Fur, Fangs and All by Meredith Allen Conner Excerpt
Barnes and Noble
A desperate werewolf
Beaten down and exhausted from a life on the run, Livie takes refuge with her sister while recovering from a bullet wound. The only problem is she can’t relax. How can she when she is surrounded by werewolves? Big and powerful with the ability to grow fur and lethal fangs, the creatures horrify her. Especially him.
A frightened woman with an amazing power
All he has ever wanted is to find his mate. The moment he smells her, Roc knows he has finally found his mate. And she is terrified of him. He never expected to have this problem with his mate. But he will do anything to keep her and make her his. If that means chaining her to his bed . . . so be it.
Alone they have nothing, but together they can have it all.
The werewolf crouched in front of her. His long hair curled over his shoulders, hiding most of his face. From between the dark, silky strands his eyes glowed, chocolate brown with swirls of amber so deep and dark red it reminded her of a pool of blood caught in moonlight. His mouth parted as he drew in her scent and she eyed the sharp edges of his elongated fangs between his firm lips.
A thin trail of blood slashed across a gap in his denim shirt, oozing in tiny rivulets down his chest. Even as she watched the blood stopped and the welt sealed shut.
Livie pressed up on her elbows, eased cautiously back a few inches. He lunged forward. She froze, but he didn’t attack her. He crouched over her, knees planted on either side of her legs, arms thrust out next to her shoulders, caging her with his body, but not quite touching her, not hurting her. Not yet.
She drew in a sharp breath at a scratching sound. A quick sideways glance confirmed that deadly claws tipped his fingers. She tried to contain another whimper, but part of it still escaped. He tensed above her and his husky growl turned softer and lower, almost as if he was trying to . . . to comfort me?
She stiffened her arms, scooted her butt up a hesitant inch and moved her right elbow back. His soft growl deepened, no longer soothing, now threatening. He lowered his head, halting mere inches from her face, the warmth of his breath brushed over her face. She froze. She didn’t dare to breathe. She didn’t look at him. She couldn’t. She didn’t want to see his fangs before they bit her.