Lust: A Blood Moon Rising Werewolf Romance
Blood Moon Rising
Companion Novella to Book 2
Genre: Werewolf Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Indigo Dreamer Press
Date of Publication: November 25, 2015
ISBN: ISBN-10: 0983513171
Number of pages: 188
Word Count: 42,000
Cover Artist: Deranged Doctor Design
A Blood Moon Rising Companion Novella, Takes Place During the Same Timeframe as Book 2 in the Main Series
Tagline: Can love be born from hatred?
A WOLF WHO HAS SPENT HIS LIFE IN THE SHADOWS OF HIS PAST…
Beta werewolf—and ex–bounty hunter—Shadow knew when his Alpha commanded—er, “politely growled”—for him to attend the werewolf summit, that it was going to royally suck. Not only does he not want to fool around with all that royal werewolf bullshit, but he also knows he’s not exactly everybody’s favorite guy. Considering he ruined a lot of those werewolves’ lives in his old profession, he’ll be lucky if he can survive the weekend. Not to mention his mating Fever is driving him insane—and so is the feisty Alpha female he’s Marked as his mate.
A QUEEN OF WOLVES WHOSE REIGN IS THREATENED…
Spirited Breanna Whiteclaw is barely holding it together. With an ornery Alpha named Strider out to make her—and her pack —his own, and with her pack recovering from recent attacks by an unknown enemy, she has her paws full. Attending the summit means leaving her pack in their time of need, but as a royal werewolf, she knows she has no choice. Add to that the fact that her Blood Moon is approaching, and she has yet to find a mate—until the devilishly handsome Shadow Marks her as his own.
CAN LOVE BE BORN FROM HATRED?
Shadow never intended to go through with the mating ceremony—especially with the daughter of a man he killed. But his Fever has other plans. The more he’s around her, the more he craves her touch, longs to hear her voice, and aches to claim her.
From the moment Shadow’s Mark formed on her hand, Breanna knew her mate-bond was destined for failure. The bounty hunter responsible for her father’s death is the last wolf on this earth she could ever bind herself to forever. But if she wants to remain Alpha and save her pack, she might not have a choice. As Strider closes in on her, she finds herself relying on Shadow’s quiet strength—and craving those rough hands all over her curves.
Shadow felt her watching him before he saw her.
His eyes followed his senses, locking onto a tall raven-haired woman with olive skin. Her eyes were slanted and deep brown, her brows thick and black, her lips full. Her features made her look like an Indian princess. Tribal tattoos of black ink covered her biceps and wrists in bands. The simplicity of her inky dress complimented the turquoise stones dangling from her ears. She was radiant.
And pissed as hell as she stormed over to him.
He raked his brain, trying to figure out who this woman was.
“How dare you show your face here, murderer!” she screeched, getting right in his face. Anger seethed from every pore in her lovely, toned body. Not that he was looking.
Eyes upward, mate.
He didn’t flinch at the flung insult. He’d been called worse.
Drake stepped up to stand beside him. “Breanna,” he said smoothly, ever the diplomat. “I see you’ve met my new head of security, Sh—”
“I know who he is,” she spat, still glaring at him. “He’s the man who murdered my father.”
Stunned silence followed the statement. It was the first time Shadow had seen Drake struck speechless. A crowd had gathered around them as people pretended to be chatting but were secretly listening to the fight.
Drake at last shook his head and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, you must be mistaken.”
“No,” Breanna said coldly, holding Shadow’s gaze. The burning fire in her eyes only made her more attractive. Breanna… Breanna… why couldn’t he remember who she was? “I’ll never forget the face of the man who killed Bear Whiteclaw.”
Bear White… Oh fuck.
This was his daughter? Shadow remembered seeing her at his trial, giving a passionate testimony that nearly had the jury ruling in favor of killing his ass. He hadn’t recognized her. She’d changed in the years since they’d met. She’d grown more into a woman.
A harder, colder version of the tearful pup mourning over her father, a man who deserved to rot in hell for the crimes he’d committed against mankind and paranormals alike. Killing Bear Whiteclaw had been doing the world a favor. Instead, it had earned him the scorn of a lot of people, including the fiery female in front of him.
Words of apology dried up in his mouth. How did you say you were sorry for something like that? “Miss, I—”
“What? You’re sorry? Don’t you dare lie to me, you son of a bitch.” Her dainty hands formed fists, which trembled at her sides. Blood dribbled between her fingers, dripping to the floor. Her claws must have come out. He’d bet his retirement she was itching to tear his face off. She’d probably smile while doing it.
A tall blond man who looked as if he could bench press a bus walked up to Breanna and whispered something in her ear. The tension eased out of her, but only slightly.
She stepped up to Shadow, her lips brushing his cheek and making him shiver.
“If it’s the last thing I do,” she whispered, “I’ll kill you.”
In one fluid motion, she was gone. He watched her walk away, his body too wired from the heat burning through him.
A fire that had blazed to life the second her lips had caressed his skin with the threat of death.
About the Author:
“Lola Taylor” is a pen name created for the romances I can’t show my grandma without blushing. My favorite genre to write is romantic suspense, usually involving hot werewolves, warlocks, or any other type of paranormal creature. Keep the action hot and the romance hotter—that’s my motto! I’m a horror film junkie, I still love Halloween as an adult (seriously, I think I get more excited for it than some kids do), and what precious spare time I have is spent with my family, reading (everything from sci fi to middle grade), playing the flute, painting pretty pictures, or screwing around on Pinterest or Etsy. Hailing from the South, I currently live in the Midwest with five fur babies and my hubby.