Lone Wolf

by Shelley Munro

  “What about other humans?”

  “Not many come up this way because there are no marked trails near here. She only trusted me and Teague because we freed her from the rock slide.”

  “I can keep an eye on her to make sure she doesn’t get in trouble.”

  A human voice sounded in the distance and the wolf mother and her pups disappeared into the undergrowth. The surrounding birds and small creatures fell silent. R.J. and Corey both scrambled for cover, only coming out again when the two men disappeared around the corner.

  “I guess that answers my concerns,” R.J. said. “It must be our wolf side that makes them accept us.”

  “I don’t know about you,” Corey said, “but I’m starving. Race you back to camp.” He shifted rapidly and sprinted away before R.J. could answer.

  R.J. shook his head, contentment filling him as he embraced his wolf. Life with Corey would never be boring. After testing the air, he trotted from the clearing. Corey would challenge and love him. They’d probably argue and butt heads, but none of that scared R.J. The lone wolf in both of them had found a mate. Neither of them would be alone again.

  About the Author

  Shelley Munro is tall and curvaceous with blue eyes and a smile that turns masculine heads everywhere she goes. She’s a university tutor and an explorer/treasure hunter during her vacations. Skilled with weapons and combat, she is currently in talks with a producer about a television series based on her world adventures.

  Shelley is also a writer blessed with a vivid imagination and lives with her very own hero in New Zealand. You can learn more about Shelley and her books at www.shelleymunro.com or you might find her lurking at Facebook www.facebook.com/shelleymunro or Twitter www.twitter.com/shelleymunro

  Look for these titles by Shelley Munro

  Now Available:

  Tea For Two

  The Bottom Line

  Seeking Kokopelli

  She chose the wolf she needed and got the man of her dreams.

  Her Chosen Wolf

  © 2009 Renee Michaels

  The Were Chronicles, Book 1

  Sent to live in the city long ago for her own protection, Saffa has always longed to return to her mountain home. She is a multimorph, and women of her rare bloodline are highly prized by those who aspire to supreme power over the pack. The last thing she wants to be is anyone’s stepping stone—especially Bardo Redmaven’s. Justice Ambervane would be her first choice…if only he’d stop holding her at arm’s length.

  The wolf within Justice would eagerly take Saffa as his mate, but for secret reason of his own, his human conscience has always resisted. He can’t believe Saffa risked coming out of hiding, even to warn him of the disturbing activities of the power-hungry Redmaven clan. She’s dangerously close to her first breeding cycle, and giving in to her irresistible scent makes him a marked man. And Saffa even more of a target.

  What he needs is backup, and there’s only one wolf he trusts enough: Drew. As the coming fight backs all three of them into a tight corner, the heat explodes into a passion that Justice wonders if he’ll live to regret…

  Warning: Quick, erotic tumble with a frisky trio.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Her Chosen Wolf:

  She turned her head at the sound of footsteps approaching. Her words of welcome dried up as she caught sight of Drew following Justice into their room. Justice met her questioning eyes, but Drew avoided her gaze. She sat up and waited. Why did she have the sinking feeling she sat on the brink of some pivotal occurrence?

  “What’s wrong?” she asked nervously.

  “Nothing’s wrong. I’ve asked Drew to be my sec.” His voice was a mere rasp, but there was no plea in them. He stated it as a fact, one he expected her to accept.

  The words echoed hollowly in her ears. This wasn’t happening.

  Her lower lip pushed out fractionally. She bit into it to control the telltale sign of her temper rising.

  “Is this where I thank you for choosing someone I actually like, or tell you to go to hell?” She slid off the bed and pulled on her terrycloth robe. Shoving her fists into the pockets, she stared at the men. Drew looked as uncomfortable as a chicken in a slaughter house.

  “Neither. It’s an accepted practice to choose a sec to assure the safety of one’s mate.” Justice walked over to her but he didn’t touch her. “I’m a marked man, Saffa. You must have known I might choose a sec.”

  She stepped back. She couldn’t bear it if he touched her now.

  “It hadn’t occurred to me you’d need to. It’s too soon; we’ve barely had any time together. It’s an insult to ask me to accept another man in our bed this soon after our first mating and during my breeding cycle.” She turned her back on Justice, not wanting him to see the tears brimming in her eyes. Damn him.

  He took a hold of her shoulders and turned her to face him. “My decision is irrevocable. It’s not one I made lightly. As my mate, you must welcome my sec. Show me your unquestioned belief in me as your future supreme alpha to do what’s best for all of us.”

  “I didn’t take the supreme alpha to my bed. I took a man who I thought at least cared enough to consider my feelings and consult me about something this important to us as a couple.” She stared stonily up at him.

  “It’s because I care that I’ve done this. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you. I’ve chosen a man who will protect you as I would, with his last breath. I chose a man who has affection for you, which you reciprocate. You insult us both by your rejection. Accept his vow of commitment. I’ll have your vow of allegiance also, Drew.” Justice stepped back and waited for her decision.

  Drew walked over to her and took her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. The understanding in them, tinged with the glint of bad-boy sexiness in his eyes, melted some of her anger.

  “Would it be so bad, Saffa?” He hugged her comfortingly. This was Drew, her friend. Maybe she’d read one too many romance novels. There was no place for misplaced sentiment in their lives. She relaxed against him.

  “I pledge my life and the strength of my pack as your mate’s sec, to keep you safe, Saffa Ambervane.” Drew turned to Justice. “With fang and claw I’ll meet your enemies in battle.”

  Drew shed his clothes, shifted into a wolf and lowered his head in an act of submission. An alpha, bowing to his future supreme alpha, not by force but by choice. He bared his neck, the final show of his trust and commitment to Justice.

  Justice swung his gaze over to her. She let out a shaky breath and shrugged off her robe. She’d do as he asked, but to show she was still pissed, she took the form of a cheetah, not the wolf as expected, and bowed.

  Justice shed his clothes and assumed a lupine physique, his presence dominating the loft. Saffa took several steps back as a show of respect.

  Lifting his head, Justice sent out his howl recognizing Drew’s pledge The varying cadence of the cry couldn’t be mistaken by anyone who heard it. Justice had taken a powerful were as his sec, adding to his influence. His pack mates inhabiting the building howled their own vows to their future leader.

  Justice butted her side and she climbed up onto the bed. Saffa positioned herself with her back to him. She wasn’t ready to make nice just yet.

  Of course, he ignored her and curled his body around hers. Drew took his place beside her, settled down and promptly fell asleep, or at least pretended to.

  Saffa lay there for a long time listening to her men breathe. Well, hell, things were getting more and more complex by the minute. Too restless to sleep, she tried to slip from the bed but the men moved to crowd her, keeping her wedged between them.

  Irritated, she wiggled but neither man budged. As always, her body began to crave Justice’s, but with Drew here with them it was hard not to be drawn to him too. She stretched out into her true form, and to her annoyance her bed mates mimicked her actions. Sandwiched between the two bodies, Saffa gulped. It was going to be a long night.

  Cut and run, or stand and fight�
��the heart knows where to draw the line.

  Push Pull

  © 2011 Joely Skye

  Wolf Town, Book 2

  Despite living together in Wolf Town for three months, Scott Lund and Rory MacIntyre share only one piece of common ground. Love. For Rory, life is all about connection—family, his pack, home. But for Scott, connections spell danger—for himself and everyone he cares about.

  The bottom line is, Scott has only a small window of time to treasure every moment with his lover. In the not-too-distant future, real life will come knocking and he’ll be forced to return to his isolated existence.

  Inevitably, a shadow from Scott’s past edges too close for comfort. Yet Scott discovers his plan to cut and run isn’t as simple as it sounds. Especially when Rory—and everyone else in Wolf Town—seems determined to convince him that holding on will cause a lot less damage than letting go.

  Warning: Contains mind control, wolf shifting, skittish lovers, mated lovers—and a happily ever after.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Push Pull:

  Rory woke to Scott struggling in his sleep. This happened occasionally and a couple of times Rory had caught a flailing elbow in the ribs because he hadn’t warned Scott before he reached for him.

  “Scott, wake up, baby.” Ready for any response, Rory touched Scott’s arm. Scott lunged to sitting, pulling in a loud, panicked breath. “It’s me.”

  Recognition came immediately, as revealed by the relaxation of Scott’s shoulders. Rory wrapped an arm around him, and Scott sank into the embrace, face resting on Rory’s shoulder. He placed a hand on that hot cheek and Scott mumbled, “I don’t want to go.”

  Rory frowned. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  Scott clutched him tighter, and Rory smelled his distress.

  “Oh, Scott.”

  Scott shook his head against him. “It’s fine, I’m fine.”

  “I know you’ll be fine. I’m sorry I overreacted earlier. I’m a bit embarrassed.”

  “You’re embarrassed. I was the one standing in a towel while your entire family inspected me.”

  Rory didn’t quite get why Scott cared about nudity to the extent he did, but the why of it didn’t matter. It just was. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “Here, drink.”

  Scott gulped down another glass of water, then padded off to the bathroom. Rory retrieved some orange juice and more Tylenol.

  It took Scott a moment to realize that the orange juice and Tylenol was for him.

  “It’s been four hours, you can take another dose.” Rory pointed out the instructions he’d carefully read on the bottle, after receiving similar instructions from Teo. Once Scott swallowed the pills, Rory frowned. “You should have told me the house was too cold for you. I didn’t know that.”

  “I can always wear a sweater. That usually does the trick.” Scott tried a grin, but it didn’t quite work. “I don’t like being such a burden.”

  Rory just shook his head, though the words upset him. He felt like he hadn’t been seeing Scott clearly for a while. Was this what made Scott take on so many of their chores? The idea made Rory feel a little sick with guilt. “Hey, never that, never a burden. Okay?” He took the empty glass from Scott who crawled under the covers. “Don’t say that.”

  Rory lay down, tugging Scott back to spoon him, and Scott arranged his body so they touched as much as was possible, legs tangled. Rory wondered how Scott’s feet could be cold when the rest of him was so hot.

  “You’re too good to me,” Scott said wonderingly, and it felt like a knife twisting in Rory’s gut, because Scott meant it.

  “Not true. I’m going to do better, much better.”

  “Couldn’t be better,” Scott muttered.

  Rory kissed the back of his neck. “Hush now. Sleep.”

  Scott gave a soft grunt and promptly did exactly that. An unprecedented occurrence. It took Rory a good half hour to fall asleep himself.

  The weekend passed in a bit of a haze. Scott mostly felt exhausted and feverish. He was embarrassed by Teo’s second doctor visit and Rory’s solicitousness, but didn’t have the strength to do much about it.

  Fortunately by Monday morning he felt more himself. Not well enough to work, so he called in sick and they got a replacement. However, it took some effort to convince Rory that he should go off to work and Scott would be okay by himself.

  Rory plopped himself on the bed and wrapped himself around Scott. For the first time since turning sick, Scott felt an answering tug in his groin and he grinned at Rory. “I think I’m feeling better.”

  Giving Scott’s half-hardened dick a pat, Rory said, “We’ll take care of you later.”

  Scott swallowed. “Rory?”

  “Mm-hmm?” Rory kissed Scott at the junction of his shoulder and neck, making him shiver in a pleasurable way, which sure as hell was a nice change from shivering in a sick way.

  But the words stuck in his throat as Scott realized what he really wanted to say. So instead, he slid up against Rory, something that his lover always reacted to.

  A groan came from deep within Rory’s chest, and Scott wondered if it was a werewolf thing, it sounded so primal at times, or just a Rory thing. He didn’t care as he undid Rory’s pants, found him hard and wanting, leaking a little. He wrapped a hand around the warm skin, seemingly steel underneath, and stroked him up and down. “Have you been like this all weekend?”

  A hoot of laughter was followed by “No! I was worried about you.”

  “Well, worry no longer.” Scott slid a thumb around the lubricated glans, stroked again, even as Rory’s fingers crept up his back and into his boxers. It was an anchor, that warm, sure palm on Scott’s back, a promise of sorts so that when Rory’s other hand found Scott’s balls and cupped them, Scott didn’t jump, simply pulled in a short breath.

  The tumble of emotion threatened to paralyze him, and he kept his focus on Rory and his velvet-steel cock that continued to harden under his ministrations, even while Rory mirrored Scott’s actions.

  Hard breathing followed, Scott’s heart unable to keep up, or that was what he thought when it all became too intense. Focus, focus, and he concentrated on pleasing Rory, stroking him just right. Scott didn’t let himself think about Rory’s hands on him, only his on Rory. If he let himself really go, Scott sometimes believed all his fears would tumble out of him, and he couldn’t allow that.

  Rory had to be kept safe.

  Rory’s cock, like the rest of Rory, responded to Scott’s touch, hardening, body stilling, even as Scott’s own body reacted. The moment burst forth then, Rory coming with his signature shout, and Scott’s hand overflowed with warmth and wet. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. But before Scott could focus on what Rory was doing to him—there’d been a brief break while Rory had spurted—Scott felt a strong clasp at the back of his neck and his mouth came under Rory’s, a deepening kiss, giving him air, taking it back.

  It was suddenly too much, his body straining for release even as it yearned for more Rory and more touch. Scott’s mind went blank, and he gave himself over to Rory. It was always a surprise when Scott just let go, unable to speak, not under the amazingly pleasurable onslaught of Rory’s skilled kissing.

  Love never hits a wrong note.

  Seeking Kokopelli

  © 2010 Shelley Munro

  Ever since Nate McKenzie hired on as a roadie, musician Adam James has lusted after him. So far Adam has kept his distance, knowing Nate is mourning his dead wife. But lately Adam has caught the man returning his stares. Maybe it’s time to test the waters.

  Besides, there isn’t much chance Nate will find out that Adam was once his people’s Kokopelli. His powers were stripped from him, along with the magical tattoo on his chest, when his orientation was discovered.

  Nate is going crazy with guilt. Before his wife’s death, he never looked at anyone else, woman or man. Now his dreams are filled with Adam. He tries to keep his mind on his job and off Adam’s sexy body, but in a moment of weakness th
ey share a kiss that sends them both up in flames.

  Their relationship risks both their hearts and Adam’s female fan base, but the attraction is too strong to ignore. Then someone takes a shot at Adam—and his tattoo begins to reappear, forcing him to come clean with his lover. And Nate to decide exactly where his future lies…before a killer steals it away from them.

  Warning: This book contains rockin’ music, smoky pubs, the mystical legend of Kokopelli and lots of playful, hot manlove.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Seeking Kokopelli:

  There was something about a long, slow seduction. Adam scrawled his signature across the top of the woman’s breasts and handed back the pen with a wink.

  “How about a kiss?”

  “Sorry, sweetheart.” Adam restrained a satisfied grin at the second low growl behind him. “I don’t want to get in trouble.” He blew her a kiss and turned to the next woman waiting impatiently for an autograph.

  While a slow seduction didn’t have physical advantages, the furtive courtship he engaged in with Nate was the most fun he’d had in ages. Nate had started looking back. So far he hadn’t registered Adam’s pursuit, but he was interested. Confused too. Satisfaction pulsed through him at the secret knowledge.

  After signing three more autographs, Adam waved to his fans and strode to the van. Nate walked directly behind him, and the devil in Adam made him halt abruptly. Nate crashed into his back. Seconds before he hit the ground, Nate grasped his hips, steadying him. Their bodies brushed before Nate stepped away, his hands falling from Adam’s hips.

  “Sorry. Thought I saw someone I knew.” Adam caught his breath at the frisson of heat and climbed into the van before stupidity reared its head any further and he did something really obvious. Nate followed and closed the door behind them. J.T. drove and, twenty minutes later, they pulled up outside their motel.