by Siobhan Muir
Queen Bitch of the Callowwood Pack
Julianna Morris didn't know werewolves existed…until she became one.
Hiding her new identity, Julianna returns home only to find her teenage crush, Jeff Lightfoot, is the future Alpha of the Callowwood werewolf pack. She's unexpectedly chosen as a candidate for the pack's next Luna, the Alpha female—and Jeff's mate. This is perfect, except Julianna knows nothing about being a werewolf, and someone's determined to make her fail the Seven Tests of the Luna.
Jeff Lightfoot lusted after Julianna for years, even when he thought she was human. Now she's home and all his—if she passes the tests. She's his True Mate and he wants no one else, but pack politics trump Mother Nature and will prevent him from choosing Julianna if she fails.
For the future she wants, Julianna must pass the tests to become Queen Bitch of Callowwood—or watch Jeff take another woman as his mate.
A Siren Erotic Romance
Genre: Paranormal, Vampires/Werewolves
Length: 98,105 words
QUEEN BITCH OF THE CALLOWWOOD PACK
Siobhan Muir
EROTIC ROMANCE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance
QUEEN BITCH OF THE CALLOWWOOD PACK
Copyright © 2012 by Siobhan Muir
E-book ISBN: 978-1-61926-721-3
First E-book Publication: June 2012
Cover design by Harris Channing
All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
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Regarding E-book Piracy
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This is Siobhan Muir’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Muir’s right to earn a living from her work.
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DEDICATION
Dedicated to Tom Keller, who doesn’t read romance, but loved the rough draft of this story, and continuously asks me when it’s coming out. It’s out, Tom! Thanks for the encouragement.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
There are many people who have helped me develop this story and I’m so grateful for their help. Lanya Ross made sure the logic carried all the way through. Natascha Jaffa and Cara Michaels helped me make a kick-ass hook at the beginning, Emily Drew beta read and helped me with the “dreaded” synopsis, and Olivia Graham graciously did the first round edits. Thanks also go to Devin Govaere for asking questions I’d never considered to make the story stronger. And of course, thank you to my husband George for his help when I got stuck and his patience when I had to edit for hours at a time. I love you, HB!
QUEEN BITCH OF THE CALLOWWOOD PACK
SIOBHAN MUIR
Copyright © 2012
Chapter One:
Waking up Hungry
Icy crystalline water on the tip of her tongue…
The scream of a dying raccoon with her jaws locked in its throat…
The adrenaline rush of blood through her veins as the stag ahead of her bolts…
The narcotic caress of the Lady Moon’s silver light…
Julianna Morris woke up sitting on her own front step, scratched, bruised, and tired. She blinked a few times, trying to bring her mind, and her eyes, into focus. Why is everything fuzzy? She rubbed one hand over her face. No glasses. That’s why her eyes couldn’t focus.
Groaning, she straightened and dragged herself to her feet. Twigs and bits of leaf litter cascaded around her as she shook her head.
A mad dash through the alpine underbrush after an arrogant rock squirrel…
Julianna froze and stared sightlessly out at the Fresno suburbs, trying to chase down hazy recollections of hunting in the woods among the scents of pine and other animals. Were these memories real or just a dream? She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and willed the images clearer, but they faded as her mind awakened to the new day.
Pale morning sunlight pushed weakly through the overcast, and Julianna shook herself, ridding her mind of the foreign sensations. Something wasn’t right, but standing on her front landing balcony, staring into space, wouldn’t clear things up. She rolled her shoulders back and had reached for the doorknob when she noticed her bulging mailbox beside the door. Didn’t I already get the mail today? Wait, what day is it?
She’d just pulled out the thick bundle of envelopes when her neighbor, Leslie Dillard, stepped out his apartment door onto the landing.
“Damn, what the hell happened to you?”
How do I tell him I don’t know?
“Uh,” she began eloquently.
“You look dog-tired, and what did you do to your clothes?” Leslie shook his head.
“Survival training,” she blurted at last. “I’m working up to an Iron Man competition of backpacking in the Sierra Nevada in a couple of months. It requires the contestants to trek across large distances, using only what they’re wearing and what they can find along the way.”
That sounded plausible, right?
“Huh, seems like a terrible waste of good clothes, if you ask me.” He nodded to her tattered jeans. “I don’t think they’re salvageable, darlin’.”
“Yeah, probably not.” Julianna glanced down at the letters in her hands. Did one of them say State of California? “You headed to work this early?”
“It’s almost eight on a Tuesday morning. I’m actually
late.” He laughed, shaking his head again.
“Well, don’t let me keep you.” She dug her keys out of her pocket and unlocked her door, pushing it open. “Have a good day.”
“Take care of yourself, darlin’. Maybe a long shower and a bottle of Chardonnay. That’ll make everything better,” Leslie called as she closed the door behind her.
I don’t think Chardonnay will be strong enough.
Dropping her keys on the kitchen counter, Julianna took the mail to her table and slumped into a chair. Her stomach growled, but she ignored it when her eyes focused on the top envelope. The return address bore the official stamp from the State of California.
Could it be?
She tore it open and scanned the letter inside, her focus sharpening as the words arrowed into her mind. Her divorce from Terence Simmons had been granted and processed. She was a free woman.
Julianna waited for the overwhelming joy and vindication to flood through her, but all she felt was relief. Thank God it’s done. Anger and grief still swirled through her, but they were faded now, pale shadows of their earlier brilliance. She’d lost eight years to a philandering, manipulative, chauvinistic womanizer whose only interest in her had been her ability to further his career. She’d helped him get tenure at UC Fresno in the English Department, and he’d repaid her by sleeping his way through the female professors and half the female students.
Memories rose unbidden, but not of those years with her erstwhile husband.
Digging in the soil after a mole. The rich scent of loam mingling with the musky fear of the little insectivore.
“What the hell is wrong with me?”
Dizziness mixed with fear, and she leaned her head into her hands, trying to get a grip on herself. Paper crackled, and she found her face pressed against the mail on the tabletop. Everything smelled of paper pulp and industrial glue, with a side of woodland debris.
Get a grip! Focus! I have to go to work.
She raised her head and scanned the pale rectangles strewn over the surface. Power bill, gas bill, another 20-percent-off coupon from Bed Bath & Beyond. Julianna snorted with tired amusement. She could probably get 600 percent off with all the coupons she’d received from them. But her amusement evaporated at the sight of her mother’s handwriting on a pale cream envelope.
Oh God…Dad…
Her hands shook as she tore the flap and pulled the letter out. It was only a note about the Easter parade scheduled in her hometown of Callowwood, but it was what her mother didn’t say that had her hands trembling. Her parents had always participated in the holiday parades, her mother baking goodies and her father coordinating the floats. This year they’d just be spectators. Grief hit Julianna in a fresh wave, and tears leaked out of her eyes, leaving dirty streaks down her face.
Her father had been diagnosed with aggressive lung cancer a year before and her mother’s calls and emails had kept her abreast of his condition all through Julianna’s divorce. They’d tried to fight the cancer with chemotherapy and radiation treatments, but they found the cancer had metastasized into his bones at his last checkup.
“Shit,” she whispered as she dropped her head to the tabletop. More debris rained out of her hair. “Dammit!”
She lifted her head, scowling at the mess. The disarray of her table infuriated her. She wanted to wipe away the frightening words of her mother’s letter as if they were written on a dry-erase board. Her hands crushed the delicate paper into jagged shapes.
What am I going to do now?
What are you going to do? Go home, where you belong!
She hated that voice. It always came out when she tried to avoid some truth. It had always been a part of her, but lately it had become stronger, like an older, braver sister forcing her to face challenges from which she’d much rather hide. As new tears spilled out of her eyes, a snarl suspiciously similar to a wolf’s echoed across her thoughts, and anger swiftly followed.
Crying will get you nowhere. It hadn’t gotten her anywhere with Terence the Rat Bastard, and it wouldn’t help her now. She had decisions to make, plans to set in motion.
But how could she think about going home when she didn’t even know what had happened to her last night? Was it only one night?
It couldn’t have been. Leslie said it was Tuesday. Three days? Dread curled in her gut. What if it happens again while I’m with my parents?
Holy shit! They’ll think I’m crazy and…and…
The scents of dirt and dried blood filtered into her awareness.
Shower! I need a shower!
She shot out of her chair and stomped to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her to keep out the hurt. The stench of the room almost bowled her over. When had her nose become so sensitive? It smelled like her bathroom needed as much attention as her body.
The water helped relax her, but the question of returning home ricocheted against the walls of her mind. Eighteen years had passed since she’d been back to her hometown of Callowwood for anything longer than a week or two. Eighteen years of trying to have an exciting life away from the small town in the middle of nowhere.
She’d found “exciting” all right. With a lousy husband and weird gaps in her memory, she’d had more than her fair share.
Dammit, she still had to go. Dad was dying, and Mom needed her.
And you need Jefferson, that older Sister’s voice insisted.
The name of the man she’d crushed on since junior high froze her solid.
Memories of Jefferson Lightfoot pushed out the fear and grief, filling Julianna with exhilaration and unrequited need. She thought she’d managed to put the “guy back home” from her mind, but he’d never strayed far from her thoughts. Even now, as she closed her eyes, she could still see and hear him.
He had a rich, gravelly baritone voice that stole her breath, sliding over her like hot velvet. His green-gold eyes, almost like a cat’s, had heavy lids so he squinted all the time like a cowboy from spaghetti westerns. He seemed to see all the way down into her soul when he looked at her. Of course, if that were the case, he would’ve either come to take care of her desires or laughed at her for having them.
Reality smacked her hard, and she opened her eyes, letting the warm fuzzies slip away.
He didn’t want me.
That hadn’t stopped her from wanting him. Or shamelessly throwing herself at him.
Julianna had had a connection to Jeff ever since the day she saw him walking his younger sister home from school. She hadn’t known what “soul mates” were at the time, but she knew he was hers and she’d done everything but strut around buck naked to get him to acknowledge it. Unfortunately, he’d treated her with amusement and affection, completely unaffected by her tight clothes and swaying hips.
Embarrassment burned in her gut, and she tried to shove it away by scrubbing her body clean. Why hadn’t he taken any notice of her?
And now he can’t. Not when I’m going crazy.
Self-recriminations can wait until I’ve eaten. Dad would say nobody thinks clearly on an empty stomach. Awww, Dad.
Julianna shut off the shower and toweled dry, making herself focus on the here and now. She’d made her decision–she was going home. But she’d keep to herself. She didn’t want her weird gaps in time to affect her parents or anyone else in town.
Her stomach rumbled, and she dressed quickly, tracking down something to calm her body, if not her mind. I need comfort food. Chocolate and ice cream? No, bacon, sausage, and eggs.
The sun had burned off some of the clouds during her shower, and the waning moon appeared in the open bits of sky to the west. Julianna knew it was waning, knew it viscerally like she knew how to whistle or roll her tongue. She’d become more and more attuned to the moon’s phases as her thirty-sixth birthday approached.
So now I’m a lunatic.
Hysterical laughter burned in her throat, but she swallowed it as she prepared a large breakfast of eggs, sausage, bacon, toast, and coffee. She sat down at her table, shovin
g aside the mail, and inhaled the scents from her plate in the weak April sunshine. Soft spring breezes rippled through the branches of the ponderosa pines outside her windows, and she wished they’d scour her heart free of sorrow. Her eyes returned to the moon peaking through the corner of one window, and she sighed.
The moon in Callowwood had always seemed bigger and brighter, a great, silent, comforting presence when things had gone wrong.
Where is your comfort now?
Julianna mentally shook herself, hoping to find peace in the simple actions of eating, but her mind returned to Callowwood like a compass needle. Growing up there, the summer days seemed to last forever until the indigo shadows of the mountains stretched across the valley. The evenings had been filled with cricket song, and icy white stars blazed from the inky curtain of night.
It had been perfect.
Then why did you run so fast and so far? her Sister’s voice asked.
I needed more than just mountains and stars, Julianna insisted.
Bullshit. You ran. You ran from him!
Does it matter? When I go back, I can’t see Jeff, not with my issues. Besides, he’s probably fat, married, with ten thousand kids by now. It has been eighteen years! He probably doesn’t even remember me, and he certainly hasn’t been waiting for me!
Julianna saw Jeff in her mind’s eye, his beard trimmed short and his delectable lips grinning at her. She’d wanted to kiss those lips so often her own mouth had grown tired from all the practice in her bathroom mirror. His nose was short and straight, and his brows overshadowed his eyes, giving him a mysterious, predatory look. He’d had short chestnut brown hair, and he’d worn a silver pendant in the shape of a wolf’s head surrounded by Celtic knots on a leather thong around his neck. His hands had been small with tapered fingers, but they had fit his body and she had often dreamed of them gliding over hers.
