Wolf Detective
Page 1
Wolf Detective
She-Shifters of Hell’s Corner
Candace Ayers
Lovestruck Romance
Copyright © 2018 by Lovestruck Romance .
All Rights Reserved .
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal .
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental .
This book is intended for adult readers only .
Any sexual activity portrayed in these pages occurs between consenting adults over the age of 18 who are not related by blood .
Created with Vellum
A note from Candace
I am currently recruiting readers for my review team. If you would like to participate by volunteering to read advance copies of my latest books, and leaving an honest review on Amazon, please sign up for Lovestruck Romance Readers email list here: JOIN NOW! You will receive a free book! I contact subscribers through email when each book is ready for review. You will be under no obligation, and can accept or decline on a book by book basis .
~ Candace
Contents
Wolf Detective
1. Denny
2. Raif
3. Denny
4. Raif
5. Denny
6. Raif
7. Denny
8. Raif
9. Denny
10. Raif
11. Denny
12. Raif
13. Denny
14. Raif
15. Denny
16. Raif
17. Denny
18. Raif
19. Denny
20. Raif
21. Denny
22. Raif
23. Denny
24. Raif
25. Denny
26. Denny
Sneak Peak
Billionaire Bear’s Bride
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Check out these other books by Candace Ayers…
Rancher Bears Series
Bears of Burden Series
Shifters of Denver Series
Bonus Books
THORN
Story Description
1. Hawthorne
2. Allie
3. Allie
4. Hawthorne
5. Allie
6. Hawthorne
7. Allie
8. Allie
9. Hawthorne
10. Allie
11. Hawthorne
12. Allie
13. Hawthorne
14. Hawthorne
15. Allie
16. Hawthorne
17. Allie
18. Hawthorne
19. Allie
20. Hawthorne
21. Allie
22. Allie
23. Hawthorne
24. Allie
25. Allie
26. Hawthorne
Loving the Alpha
Story Description
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
Claimed by the New Alpha
Story Description
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Given to the vampires
Story Description
1. Dimitri
2. Anna
3. Dimitri
4. Anna
5. Dimitri
6. Dimitri
7. Anna
The Lion’s Claim
Story Description
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
BEAR’S (Mail Order) Bride
Story Description
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Wolf Detective
She-Shifters of Hell’s Corner
1
Denny
“T hree. Two . One — ”
“ Benny ! No !”
My countdown was interrupted by his mother’s shrill screams as Benny, his two little hands gunked with gummy candy, yanked down my scenic background curtain. Dang . Who’d a thought the little guy was so strong .
The beautiful, sepia-toned old western town came billowing down on top of the sticky five-year-old while Benny’s mom’s screams heightened to an earsplitting crescendo. Even as chaos erupted, Benny’s dad sat in the wooden prop chair, outfitted in an old-west-style, size-too-small costume, watching the world go by through my photo studio’s wall to wall windows. Their second child, not-Benny, was a ballsy little ten-year-old who hated me at first glance. He’d already “accidentally” stomped on my toes and made a point of “innocently” crossing his eyes in every photo I took .
I hurried over to the catastrophe and tried to piece together my torn background. Keyword: tried, because in her hysteria, Benny’s mom was trampling all over it and inadvertently holding it down on top of her son. I vaguely wondered if she’d decided to suffocate the kid right there in my studio. Regardless, she was doing a fine job of not helping .
Finally, Benny’s dad reacted to the scene and stood. Relief was short lived when he bellowed his announcement that he’d had enough and was leaving .
My panic heightened as I watched the portly man, adorned in my several-hundred-dollar vintage outfit, stride purposefully towards the front door. I couldn’t afford to lose the costume. “No, please, sir. You can’t leave .”
He spun around and gestured wildly. “In the name of my own sanity, I’m getting out of this pandemonium! It’s eating me alive !”
His fury froze me to the spot. My mind whirred trying to find an answer, a way out of the escalating situation. This was exactly why I remained single .
Benny’s mother had all but forgotten Benny and his sticky disaster zone. She stood still on top of my background curtain, glaring, and yelled back at her husband. “Oh, no, Bill. You aren’t leaving us! Just where do you think you’re going to go where I won’t find you? You walk ou
t and I swear on my mother’s grave I will hunt you down and personally make your life a living hell .”
Bill scrunched his features into a mask of bitterness and rage. “ Too late !”
Benny managed to crawl out from under the curtain as I held up an end. He latched onto my arms, effectively plastering my arm hair down to my skin with the gelatinous goo coating his fingers. He began bawling mega fat tears in response to his parent’s raised voices. His own little voice raised to a loud screech that I was sure he’d inherited from his mother. I was expecting the windows to shatter at any moment—or my eardrums .
While his parents continued screaming at each other, I focused on soothing Benny, hoping to quiet him, while the older son, not-Benny, stripped out of his outfit. He threw each piece of the period costume at me as he removed it .
“Excuse me.” I raised my voice, but it still emerged as barely above a whisper. “Ahem…Excuse me…” I was ignored .
“What the fuck are we doing here, anyway? This is fucking stupid. Look at me. I’m a grown man dressed like a—a—fruitcake .”
“No, you’d rather be home watching football and downing a six pack while you fart and scratch your balls !”
Oh, ew, TMI. “Excuse me—” I concentrated on controlling the trembling taking over my body, but my knees were about to give .
“What do I have to look at? You, squeezed into the yoga pants your ass outgrew two sizes ago? And, for Christ’s sakes put on a bra once in a while! Your belly button will thank you .”
“Oh, that’s it, Bill. I’ve had it with you. You’re not leaving. I’m leaving. And, if you think I’m not gonna bleed you dry in a divorce, you’re stupider than you look. Every penny, Bill. E-v-e-r-y penny !”
Not-Benny was down to his underwear, which I hadn’t provided, but by the look of things, those were coming off too. As he tugged at the elastic waistband of his Hanes, I decided I wasn’t going to be an easy target for flying ten-year-old underpants. I held Benny close while maneuvering around the screaming couple and winced as he wove his sticky hand into my hair and tugged .
Just when I thought my studio was going to be completely leveled, Charlie Dunn stepped inside. Charlie took one look at the mayhem, stuck two fingers in her mouth, and whistled loud enough to wake the dead. “All of you! Knock it off! I could hear you lunatics from across the street !”
They eyed her and both opened their mouth as though they were going to talk back, but Charlie, god bless her, kept firm. She wagged her finger in faces and barked orders. “You, put your clothes on! You two, change back into your own clothes and GET OUT!” She looked down at the torn curtain in shambles on the floor. “Denny, do you want them to reimburse you for damages ?”
I almost peed myself at having her wagging finger and raised voice fired at me. “ N -no .”
“Are you sure?” Her eyebrows raised .
I nodded and pried Benny’s hands from my head. A few strands of my hair clung to his little fingers as I set him down in front of his mom. “J-just leave the clothes in the dressing room. Please ”
Charlie stood, hands on hips, until they were back in their own clothing and hightailing it out of my place. She looked around and then settled on me. “You have something in your hair .”
I lifted my hands to my head and groaned. Sure enough, my hair was clumped and matted from Benny’s sticky hands . “Crap .”
“You should’ve charged them for damages. Will your backdrop recover ?”
I assessed the torn fabric and groaned again. “No. It’s destroyed .”
She pulled a sock off my shoulder. “Want me to go chase them down? ‘Cause I will .”
Assessing the disaster zone, I shook my head, not inclined to invite them back into my business. “I knew they were going to be trouble .”
“You’re too much of a pushover, Denny. You’ve got to stand up to people like them .”
I shrugged. Her expression softened when she noticed my hands were still trembling .
“You sure you’re okay? I know how you are around domineering men .”
It was my nature to back down from confrontation anyway, but Charlie was right, the booming voice of an angry male had the potential to induce a panic attack of epic proportions .
“I—I have another background. It isn’t as bad as it could’ve been .”
“You haven’t seen your hair yet.” She made a face and backed away. “I’ve got to get back to the shop. I’ll see you tonight .”
“Tonight ?”
“St. Anon. Just like every Tuesday .”
“Right. Today’s Tuesday?” I looked at my calendar and gasped. “I’ve got another photoshoot in half an hour, out at Dickerson Farms .”
Charlie shook her head and grinned. “Dickerson’s is a good forty-minute drive. Girl, are you ever on time ?”
I cut her a look and stood at the door, ushering her out. “Yes. Sometimes… well, I’m not always late .
“So, you’ll be on time tonight for the meeting ?”
I narrowed my eyes pushed the door shut. I knew better than to promise .
There was a distinct possibility I’d be late .
2
Raif
M y room at Muddy’s Little Bed and Breakfast was on the third floor with a view of the eclectic little town of Helen’s Corner below. I could sit at the bench window seat and have an unobstructed view of the hodge podge of colorful little storefronts lining Main Street. There was also a bare wall big enough to set up the layout board I always put together when working a case. It was old school, but it worked .
Brain-gears cranking, I studied my neatly handwritten index cards, each one bearing information about Ricco Moretti’s crime syndicate .
It was coming together. As soon as I gathered the final pieces of the puzzle, I’d wrap it up and head back to Chicago .
I stared down at the shops below. Oddly, there was something about this little town that drew me. Hell’s Crazy Corner. That’s what the guys on the police force in Smith had called it. Good guys. Not even too put out that a vice detective from Chicago was sticking his nose in their homicide case .
The guys ribbed me about choosing to find a room in this town instead of Smith. Something about wild women and “unexplained esoteric and mystical happenstances.” Whatever. I didn’t fall for any of that hocus pocus mumbo jumbo. In fact, it was probably nothing but my shifter blood that was pulling me to this town. I spied the woods behind the strip of shops and stretched. My wolf was itching for a good run. He would enjoy being out of the big city for a few days .
I’d scented more than a few other shifters since I’d arrived and, apparently, the guys were right. The town was full of women, if I ever took the time away from work. That hadn’t happened in longer than I cared to remember .
The pressure of making detective had been heavy, with my father’s legacy looming over me. He’d made detective by twenty-five. I’d done it by twenty-six. Not good enough for the old man, of course. Nothing was .
Then, I’d worked my ass off in the Chicago PD. Dad and I were both too busy to keep up a relationship, and he’d passed about a year before from a massive stress-induced heart attack .
Not surprising really. In the dictionary, under the word stress, should be a picture of my dad. Even my childhood memories of him were of a high-strung, miserable son of a bitch .
I ran my fingers over my beard and studied the crime layout board. Was one of the cards slightly askew? I re-aligned it and stepped back. Sloppy irked me .
I’d been working on nailing Ricco Moretti, the head of the Moretti crime syndicate for over a year. The slimy bastard kept slipping through my fingers. A couple months ago, I’d gotten so close that he’d gone underground. Through what I called the strung-out junkie informant network , I’d learned that Ricco was responsible for the hit on a low-level drug dealer in the city of Smith, New Mexico .
Of course, he hadn’t committed the crime himself. But, I figured if I could nail the perpetrator of t
he homicide in Smith, I could get him to rat out the big boss in Chicago—Ricco .