The kiss started out damn near perfect, a sensual merging of lips that felt as natural as shifting to wolf had earlier.
It felt ⦠right. More than that. Perfect. Braden had dreamed of this, ached for this, in truth ever since heâd first heard the sexy sound of her throaty voice.
Crazy. Foolish. And not at all like him.
Despite this, he craved more, much more. He wanted to do things with her that someone like him had no business wanting to do with a royal princess.
And that was enough reason to make him realize he needed to stop. Right this instant.
He broke off the kiss and moved away, feeling oddly bereft. âMy apologies,â he told her, stiffly formal. âI shouldnât have done that.â
âI didnât mind.â Rather than furious, she sounded strangely elated. âWhy apologize for something we both clearly enjoyed?â
Enjoyed?
Dear Reader,
Nearly every little girl dreams of being a princess, which made me wonder if princesses dreamed of being ⦠ordinary. Not boring ordinary, but a regular person who could go to college, hit the mall for sales and stroll the beach without notice. And a shape-shifter princess would have it far worseâthe only time she could be like everyone else would be when she became a wolf.
The Wolf Princess is about such a woman.
The youngest daughter in the royal family of the fictional country of Teslinko, she is sought after, stared at and talked about. And when a blind doctor travels from America to study her, that seems to be the last straw.
Instead, she learns her new life has just begun.
The sequel to this title, The Wolf Prince, will be out next year. Both brother and sister have their own journey and, though they might seem diametrically opposed, they are actually pretty similarâboth headed toward love. After all, thatâs what life is really all about.
Sincerely,
Karen Whiddon
KAREN WHIDDON started weaving fanciful tales for her younger brothers at the age of eleven. Amidst the Catskill Mountains of New York, then the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, she fueled her imagination with the natural beauty that surrounded her. Karen now lives in north Texas, where she shares her life with her very own hero of a husband and three doting dogs. Also an entrepreneur, she divides her time between the business she started and writing. You can e-mail Karen at [email protected] or write to her at PO Box 820807, Fort Worth, TX 76182, USA. Fans of her writing can also check out her website, www.karenwhiddon.com.
To all the readers who write to me, whether by e-mail or paper and pen, thank you for your notes. They mean the world to this busy writer. Again, thank you.
Princess Alisa of Teslinkoâs first hint that the man waiting for her at her familyâs table was trouble was the fact that he wore dark glassesâeven inside the palace dining room, where the candle-illuminated table made the light relatively dim.
Her second hint, his unabashedly scruffy appearanceâfrom his rumpled black hair to his disheveled, too-casual clothes. Usually when suitorsâeven those from other countriesâvisited royalty, they made sure to look their best, even for her. The fact that he hadnât bothered told her he either honestly didnât care, or worse, didnât know any better.
Either way, as she made her way toward him, she grudgingly admired him for his boldness in daring to be different. She had to admit, it pricked her interest, especially since she was different herself. Someone like him was a welcome change from the usual ass-kissers who came seeking her hand. Though she knew sheâd eventually have to choose one of them, so far she hadnât been able to get past the fact that every single one of them felt more infatuated with her money and status than her.
And now this man, apparently the latest in a long queue of minor Pack royalty.
Head up, dark glasses obscuring his face, he ignored her as she drew closer. This gave her pause. He didnât turn toward her and flash his teeth in a patently false smile or dip his perfectly cleft chin in acknowledgment or even give any outward sign that he noticed her approach. Except for the slight flaring of his nostrils, he might have been completely oblivious.
Barely stopping herself from rolling her eyes, she made her way to the table, affecting a pleasant smile that she hoped hid her frustration. Lately her parents had been focused obsessively on marrying her off, as though they had some sort of checklist of their childrenâs names and hers was the next one on it. It didnât help that she was not as beautiful as her two older sisters or that she was known around Teslinko as a bit of a brainiac.
And here sat yet another one of her parentsâ finds.
There was a second or two of extreme awkwardness when she reached them. Her father gallantly stood, while her mother and the stranger remained seated. Alisa couldnât believe it. Sheâd never had a visitorâsuitor or otherwiseâact in such a deliberately boorish manner.