Desert Wolf
WEREWOLF ALPHAGrant Wade is a former Texas Ranger. He's also a Lycan Alpha and, in the desert ghost town of Desperado, he's found a perfect refuge for his pack and a place to shelter other werewolves in need of a safe place.Determined to reclaim her full birthright, Paxton Hall goes home for the first time in decades. Her plan to strike a deal with Desperado's new owner doesn't work any better than her attempts to resist this sexy cowboy. Even as she falls for him, Paxton has no idea what he's trying to protect her from – his animal desire, her own true nature or a rogue predator on the prowl…
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WEREWOLVES OF THE WILD WEST
Grant Wade is a former Texas Ranger. Heâs also a Lycan Alpha and, in the ghost town of Desperado, heâs found a perfect refuge for his desert pack and a place to shelter other werewolves in need of a safe place.
Determined to reclaim her full birthright, Paxton Hall goes home for the first time in decades. Her plan to strike a deal with Desperadoâs new owner doesnât work any better than her attempts to resist this sexy cowboy. Even as she falls for him, Paxton has no idea what heâs trying to protect her fromâhis animal desire, her own true nature and a rogue predator on the prowl...
âWhatever you might be thinking, Iâm not the enemy.â
Another forward step brought him close to Paxton. After a second quick glance at the moon, he lowered his voice. âNo one here is out to hurt you. Please remember that.â
Daring to touch her, Grant placed a finger against her lips, fighting an overwhelming urge to replace those fingers with his mouth. But that kind of unanticipated aggression would have ended any future dealings they might have. He got that.
Her lips were soft against his fingertips though. And Paxton didnât back away from his touch.
Damn those haunted eyes of yours.
Damn those lips.
He almost said those things out loud.
Hiding a shudder similar to the one he saw pass through her, Grant spoke again. âGood night. Sleep well.â
It took all of his willpowerâevery last ounce of itâto leave her there...and keep walking.
LINDA THOMAS-SUNDSTROM writes contemporary and paranormal romance novels for Mills & Boon. A teacher by day and a writer by night, Linda lives in the West, juggling teaching, writing, family and caring for a big stretch of land. She swears she has a resident muse who sings so loudly, she often wears earplugs in order to get anything else done. But she has big plans to eventually get to all those ideas. Visit Linda at lindathomas-sundstrom.com or on Facebook.
To my family, those here and those gone, who always believed I had a story to tell.
Contents
There was no man in the moon.
Every werewolf knew this.
The moon was female and a temptress. Her kiss was cool and her love ran hot. For Weres, Madame Moon was everythingâlover, mistress, redeemer, betrayer. She bestowed power, strength, enhanced senses, lightning-fast reflexes and pain...terrible racking pain that long ago had turned former Texas Ranger Grant Wade inside out, but seemed normal to him now.
Tonight, the moon took up a good portion of the wide expanse of the star-filled Arizona sky and called to Grant with a seductive, silvery promise that made his shoulders twitch.
Only two other things Grant knew of felt anything remotely like this gut reaction: beautiful women and fine, aged whiskey...neither of which were present at the moment.
âWait.â Holding back tremors that were bubbling up inside, he addressed the moon. âNot yet. Soon.â
The night was still warm after that dayâs unforgiving desert sun. Shirtless, wearing only jeans and boots, Grant rolled his shoulders to ease the growing aches of his imminent shape-shift. As a pure-blooded Lycan version of the werewolf species, shifting was part of his heritage. He liked it.
But he needed a little more time before he could do so, and he needed to keep his voice for a while longer. Long enough to corral the trespasser he was hunting out here, a rogue who brought trouble too close to home and was slippery as hell.
âWhere are you?â Grant whispered to his prey. âWhat are you?â
The interloper whose arrival he anticipated could be human, though Grant doubted it. As a rule, humans werenât partial to acts as grisly as this crazy son of a bitchâs grotesque taste for the raw meat of neighboring cattle. Disappearing animals had garnered the attention of angry ranchers with rifles, and those ranchers would be on the prowl tonight to protect their herds.
No. He suspected it was a half-crazed werewolf doing the damage. And if that scenario turned out to be true, the rogue had to be removed from human radar as quickly as possible. Werewolves had kept their presence and identities safe for over a thousand years and couldnât afford to blow it all now.
But damn...
The whole raw meat thing surrounding the freak he was after was a strange twist on abnormal. No werewolf Grant knew of went after cattle on the hoof. Most Weres, including him, preferred their burgers well done and on a bun.
These days, most Weres were as civilized as their human counterpartsâat least 99 percent of the time. Humans just wouldnât like the fact that some police officers, nurses and even ER techs could actually be more than they seemed each time a full moon rolled around.
