Aimee Easterling's Blog, page 12

Shadow Wolf, Chapter 1

I realized I hadn’t posted here in nearly two months — oops! In my defense, I’ve had my head down following Mai through the winding path of book two in the Moon Marked series. And now Shadow Wolf is finally ready for your eyes. If you missed book one, I highly recommend you start with Wolf’s Bane instead. Otherwise…enjoy!

***

Dried blood coated my cuticles and I blinked, unable to make sense of the unexpected sight. Safely sheltered by werewolves, I’d gone on frequent fur-form expeditions in recent weeks. So maybe that explained the dark circles beneath my fingernails…but since when did I pounce upon unwary rabbits and rip open their throats while I was sleeping?

Seeking clues, I tipped my head upwards to take in the crescent moon then stamped bare feet against bent and splintered grass blades. The strands caught against my toes, clinging as if coated with glue…or with some other halfway-dried and considerably less savory substance.

Blood?

I leapt sideways, the harsh tang of copper following me away from the trampled circle of earth. From the amount of bodily fluids I’d brought along with me, I could only assume I’d waded through the same carcass that had sullied the grass and soil…or had been the one to spill those bodily fluids myself.

There has to be a rational explanation for all of this. Closing my gaping mouth and forcing air to flow more naturally through flaring nostrils, I peered out at the darkened landscape in which I found myself. I was perched atop a rounded knoll, encircled on four sides by tree silhouettes while the moon shone down through a gap in the canopy to illuminate the spot where I now stood…

…Where I stood beside a cloaked figure all too familiar despite the three months since I’d seen him or her last. The being had bought Mama’s star ball and absconded with it last spring despite all of my efforts to reclaim the magic….

So I was dreaming. I exhaled in relief, pinching my forearm. Unfortunately, the sharp burst of pain failed to wake me back up.

Well, if I had to repeat a three-month-old battle against the owner of my mother’s star ball, perhaps this time I’d win the fight. Change the rules, change the game….

To that end, I yanked at the source of my magic, the glow of a sword arcing through the air between me and my enemy. And in instant response, lightning bugs rose in a wave of green-hued reaction, their sheer numbers proving that this was not memory but rather dream. I’d never known so many of the bioluminescent fliers to exist in one location…had rarely even seen a smattering of their neon lights at the wooded edge of the city park where I sometimes went to be alone.

But I wasn’t located in my home city any longer. Instead, forest stretched out around me, lacking streetlights, porch lights, even the barest hint of asphalt and diesel fumes to pinpoint a nearby road.

Where was I? And why had I moved this frequently remembered battle from the abandoned theater in which it had actually occurred to an idyllic spot lifted from a fairy tale?

All of these thoughts flooded my neurons in the time it took for the lightning bugs to wink out and return the scene to near darkness. Meanwhile, as if my enemy had been waiting for the return of my attention, cloaked arms rose in a flicker of black on black. Then a shining orb levitated out of the being’s right sleeve.

Now I could see my opponent easily as he—she?—beckoned me forward with one curving finger. Come, the gesture demanded as Mama’s star ball winked at me from around the being’s gloved hand. I cocked my head in response to the magic’s odd behavior. Then the glowing star ball shifted, stretched…and turned into a whip that lashed out faster than a cobra to encircle my arms and chest.

The magic burned. Cut through my silk kimono and almost—but not quite—prevented me from noticing how dramatically this nightmare had gone off the rails of its usual script.

Since when was there a lasso involved in our battle? Since when did I wear kimonos? Since when did the anonymous being I fought against wield magic I had yet to understand?

“Who are you?” I demanded, not even trying to bring up my magical sword to sever the imprisoning connection that pulled me one step closer to my nemesis, then another. Because I could feel my mother’s essence within the glowing rope restraining me—who knew what would happen if I cut that soul-bound magic in half to free myself?

The words had been a parry, meant only to win me another moment in which to think. But, to my surprise, my opponent didn’t ignore them. Instead, lasso pressure on my stomach eased as a hooded head cocked to one side in mimicry of my own earlier gesture. I could almost smell the being’s confusion as he or she paused rather than continuing to reel me in.

Scent. Yes, of course I should use every weapon at my disposal if this really was a face-to-face meeting with my nemesis rather than a rehashed memory-turned-nightmare.

But the breeze was flowing from behind me, the air too dry to be redolent with identifying scents. And as the wind whipped unbound hair against my cheekbones, I flinched, realizing what I should have gathered from the start.

The body I inhabited wasn’t my own—how could I have missed that? Instead, I stood in the skin of my dead mother. More slender than my real body, a trifle shorter, and enfolded in the subtle haze of jasmine that always preceded my mother whenever she entered a room.

Then my lips opened and Mama’s voice spoke through me. “Master…” she started, chilling me to my core. So the cloaked being had figured out how to use Mama’s star ball since I’d last been in his or her presence. Had figured out how to use her magic…and her as well.

But before Mama could bow to the Master further, before I could beg forgiveness for letting her fall into such a trap, my earlier wish was granted. I slipped out of my mother’s body and woke in my own bed with a start.

Keep reading chapter two on my blog….

Wolf Legacy bundle now available

Do you love binge-reading box sets? If so, you’re in luck! The Wolf Legacy Quartet is now available in bundled format on all retailers.

I tossed in two short stories and a recipe along with the four novels that make up this complete series. So hopefully the box set will keep you reading for a good long time.

Enjoy!

A summer reading list to escape into

Once again, it’s been a full season since I perused recently read books and wrote up my favorite fantasy reads. Which means this post skims the creamiest of the cream — hopefully you’ll love every title I mention!

Black Dog by Rachel Neumeier is perhaps the most memorable of the books I enjoyed in the last four months. This Kindle Unlimited selection reads a bit like Maggie Stiefvater’s Shiver but with an entirely different, Hispanic slant. The beauty of the writing doesn’t detract from the story, either, and I was definitely hooked by the plucky immigrants trying to ingratiate themselves within an established (and quite scary) New England pack. The only thing I didn’t like? The cover. Otherwise, I recommend this title wholeheartedly.

Origins by Ilona Andrews is a good, tight, unputdownable (dark, bloody) novella by the husband-and-wife powerhouse. My only regret is that there doesn’t appear to be a continuation to what looks poised to be another great shifter-centric series on their part.

Speaking of books by urban-fantasy greats, Patricia Briggs’ Burn Bright is just as delicious as I’d expected. If you haven’t read the Alpha, Omega series, I instead recommend starting at the beginning. But loyal readers can safely save this novel to brighten a rainy day.

Are you sick of shifters? Not to worry — I’ve got some other fantasy titles for you with unique, intriguing premises. Hailey Edwards’ How to Save an Undead Life is a Kindle Unlimited read that hooked me from the moment our heroine began interacting with a sentient-but-unable-to-speak house. The backstory was well intertwined, the front story fast and twisty, and the side characters as intriguing as our heroine. What’s not to like?

Next, Holly Evans’ Stolen Ink (free at the time of this posting) immerses you in a richly imagined world where tattoos create animal familiars and relationships are deep but sometimes dark. I haven’t read a book that reminds me so much of Charles de Lint in a long time!

Finally, if you don’t mind going a little young adult and epic fantasy, Kate Elliott’s Court of Fives tosses you into a richly imagined world based loosely on Ptolymaic Egypt (after the Greeks moved in). It has shades of the Hunger Games, but is far from a copy-cat book. In fact, I liked this heroine a lot more than Katniss, with her beloved yet problematic family, her passion for the national sport, and her misplaced affections for an interesting and imperfect prince. Even if you’re an urban-fantasy-only reader, you might want to give this one a try — it might just suck you in.

How about you? Do you have a fantasy book you’re just itching to recommend? If so, I hope you’ll click on the facebook link below and let me know!

 

Street Spells

Are you ready for a treat? I got together with six other authors to create a free anthology, full of werewolves and witches and necromancers and goblins. My inclusion slides into the middle of the Wolf Rampant Trilogy (but contains no spoilers, so you can safely read it whenever), answering that burning question — what happened to Chase? Here’s an excerpt from the beginning to whet your appetite:

Sixteen years ago, I met a werewolf. Maybe? It’s hard to be sure when the memories are as fuzzy as seven-day mold grown on a nutrient-enhanced petri dish. Here’s what I recall:

The strip club. Bare skin sliding across cool metal while I ran chemistry formulas through my head to make sure I had them right. I was cramming for an organic-chemistry final the next morning—that part’s a fact—and for one night I cared more about my actual grade rather than about making the bucks that allowed me to stay in school.

Still, there was no pause button to let me study in peace. Instead, it was all pounding music and strobing lights, greedy eyes, a ten-dollar bill slipped into my g-string. I was used to the sensory overload, so that couldn’t be why the night turned into such a fairy-tale in my memory.

The crazy part began when I left work, waved goodbye to fellow dancers before slipping out into the darkened alley that should have been empty…but wasn’t. A male figure leaned against the grimy concrete. Straightened as I approached. Reached toward me with fingers silhouetted against the dim street lamp.

I clutched my mace canister, wishing I’d been smart enough to wait an extra hour to walk to the bus stop with Cindy—Chloe? Callie? If I can’t even remember my closest co-worker’s name, how can I believe this memory isn’t fiction but rather fact?

The man’s words were lost to the adrenaline-fueled terror of the moment. But his hand print…I can still feel it around my bicep, can easily visualize the four pulsing finger marks that lingered there for days after the fact.

My assailant’s breath stank of whiskey, the cheap kind that still cost enough to break the bank in a strip club. His intentions were clear.

I froze. This part embarrasses me, makes the adult I am now wince for the nineteen-year-old I was then. A man grabs you in a back alley and you just stand there? Really, Sienna? You can’t just let the world do what it wants with you. Nobody’s going to save you except yourself.

Only, that part’s not true. The wolf barreled into us out of nowhere, a blue-eyed beauty with teeth so sharp they grazed my skin even as the animal pushed my attacker down onto the asphalt.

A dog, I know you’re thinking. Some policeman’s trained attack beast. Big and gray, looked like a wolf in a dark alley when you were scared out of your wits. It’s an easy mistake to make.

It wasn’t a dog though. Later, after I earned my bachelors and moved on to graduate study, I learned to tell the difference. Tail held straight behind rather than curving erect. Densely furred ears. Eyes—okay, that part doesn’t make sense. But you’ve got to go with me here. I knew the beast between us was a wolf even as my attacker screamed, scrambled backwards, ran from that alley like the fires of hell were on his tail.

I expected the wolf to pursue him. I mean, if I was going to be rescued by the big bad wolf, it should finish the job, right? I hugged my red hoodie closer in to my stomach, stood there with a throat so dry I couldn’t force out a single sound.

And that’s when the memory goes cockeyed. I’m a scientist, I want you to remember that. Was already learning to observe objectively even during my sophomore year of college. I knew how to draft a hypothesis, to test that question with a well-managed experiment, then to accept the results I saw with my own eyes.

This is what I saw with my own eyes. Fur receding into naked smoothness. A body elongating, straightening. White-moon buttocks flashing me as a broad-shouldered man lurched erect.

Or, not a man, but a teenager like me. A few years younger, if I had to guess. I even knew his name.

Chase was one of those club-goers you could tell had shown up on a dare. His cheeks were beet red when he first entered my place of employment two weeks earlier and his eyes kept skittering off the endless array of bare flesh in the room. He remained innocent, too, while returning night after night. He listened as I talked about my classes, asked if he could walk me home.

Chase wanted to be my boyfriend, but I couldn’t accept the kid’s infatuation at face value. I wasn’t stupid enough to confuse lust with love.

Now, though, common sense fled along with the air in my lungs as a wolf turned into a grass-fed farm boy in front of my eyes. “You…it…what?” Or at least, I think my reaction went something like that.

“Angel,” my rescuer started, reaching out to take one of my shaking hands in two of his. Irrationally, the skin-on-skin contact calmed me, never mind that the boy entwining his fingers with mine was buck naked, his family jewels brushing against the leg of my jogging pants.

Maybe that’s why I told him my real name. “Sienna. It’s Sienna.”

The smile on his face was as warm as the rising midwinter sun. And maybe that explains the confusion of my memory. Maybe I was the one dealing with a teenage infatuation sixteen years earlier. That could explain why the entire episode—getting jumped in a dark alley, being rescued by some kind of weirdo nudist—feels as warm and fuzzy as a napping kitten in my adult mind.

“Sienna.” My name on his tongue drew me in closer until I was pressed up against his naked chest. Meanwhile, Chase’s ensuing words made even less sense than my own actions had. “My pack is leaving. I want you to come with us. I know all this—” he motioned at his bare skin “—is strange. But I promise we can make it work.”

And here’s the deal. I was nineteen with no family to speak of, my after-hours job eating up whatever social time I would otherwise have enjoyed. I was tempted. The whole wolf thing…maybe I’d accidentally imbibed something I shouldn’t have earlier in the evening, never mind my rule to never drink from an open bottle while at work. Chase was a white knight, wanting to sweep me off my feet and carry me off into the sunset. For half a second, I wanted to be swept.

But there was that pesky orgo final the following morning. My future boldly charted out before me. A good job, independence, making my own way in the world.

I only realized Chase’s arms had come up to surround me when I tried to push myself backwards and found myself unable to push. For a split second, terror swamped me. You don’t hug naked strangers in dark alleys, I berated myself. How can I remember that mental rebuke so clearly and have gotten everything else so dramatically wrong?

Whatever the meaning of this strangely clear memory, I know this part for a fact. Chase released me the instant my heart rate spiked into terror. Took one long step backwards, his neck bowing even as his heel scuffed against the pavement. “I thought you might feel that way,” he said, not even waiting for me to reject him verbally. “But if you change your mind, email. Please.”

The lined notebook paper he held out between us was folded and burr-edged, as if Chase had spent hours worrying it between finger and thumb. Maybe he’d carried it with him all week as we spoke in stolen moments during my various shifts. Had been itching to hand over his contact information every time I’d sunk down at his table for a break, sipping a cherry coke and chatting about our respective days.

I wouldn’t have accepted the paper then, but I did now. Still, almost as soon as the information was in my possession, I stepped backwards, an apology I didn’t really understand tumbling off my lips. “I’m sorry. But I can’t go with you.”

After all, I refused to be like my mother. Wouldn’t depend on a man then end up poverty-stricken, a single mother who succumbs to a heart attack while far too young.

Wolf boy smiled at me sadly, and for half a second I doubted my own stiff-spined resolve. I ached to change my mind and run away with this white knight, especially when the May evening hugged me gently, promising that fairy tales just might be real.

But if this was a fairy tale, then I’d create my own happy ending. So I turned on my heel and walked away into the night.

Keep reading in the FREE Street Spells anthology….

In the company of wolves

My first novel-length story erupted out of me during late elementary school. I remember spending hours scribbling down Violet’s adventures, but the plot is completely lost to the mists of time…or so I thought until last week. Imagine my surprise when my mother dug up the drawing and typed scene above, proving that Violet was hanging around with wolves!

(The painted rock was made by my awesome friend Kayla — much better than my childish drawing, don’t you think?)

Inspired by this evidence of a childhood fascination with wild canines, I braved the toddlers and attended a live wolf presentation put on via a partnership between our local library and Ironwood Wolves. Logan is a three-year-old male who would have been reaching the end of his life in the wild on the average one meal per week, but appeared to be thriving in captivity where he’s likely to reach or exceed the grand old age of twelve.

His feet were tremendous. His fur was almost mangy as he shed out his winter coat. And his temperament was mild leaning toward catnapping…until a child strayed across the safe line and prompted him to snap his teeth.

Good inspiration for future werewolf books!

Wolf’s Bane is now live!

I’m excited to share the first book in an all-new series this week!

Secrets are my specialty.

I’m Mai Fairchild — fox shifter, sister’s keeper, and bane of the local werewolf pack. In a world where different is dangerous, my sister and I must pretend to be human at all costs. Too bad I just lost the job that lets me live under the radar while putting food on my sister’s plate.

Enter an enticing werewolf who offers enough cash to upgrade our diets from ramen noodles to salami if I join him on a magical hunt. But can I afford to accept the opportunity when the risk of working closely with every fox shifter’s sworn enemy is so great?

Here’s what the early reviewers have to say:

“Fast paced, action packed, nerve racking, nailbiting tale” — Kaye

“Appealing characters, suspenseful plot, and so much fun!” — LaffingKat

“An interesting and magical story with strong and mysterious characters, legend, action and suspense” — dora la exploradora

“Filled with funny quips, fast action and as always rich, colorful characters to fall in love with” — Sara F

“Explosive” — Aline Pack

Now available on all retailers:

Wolf’s Bane: Chapter 2 Scene 2

If you’re just tuning in, you’ll want to start at the beginning….

“You’re late.”

Ma Scrubbs glowered at me across a table littered with dollar bills and scraps of hastily scrawled wagers. To the uninitiated, the mess looked like, well, a mess. But my second-shift supervisor memorized each offering, constantly recalculated the odds, and ensured the finances fell forever in her favor.

Not so difficult when she had a fighter like me in her back pocket.

Which, tonight, she most definitely did not. “I’m not doing it, Ma,” I responded, slamming the door of my employer’s office to block out the crowd so I could transition from Disney princess into hardened warrior and feel like myself once again. Only after stuffing both arms into the leather jacket waiting for me on the back of the door then buttoning the armor up to my chin did my heart calm sufficiently for me to fall into the empty seat waiting on the other side of Ma’s desk.

“Cool it with the tantrums, girlie. And I’m not your mother. So don’t call me ‘Ma.’” As she spoke, the older woman’s brows scrunched together into a glower that I was far too familiar with. Because, no, Ma Scrubbs wasn’t my mother. But she’d let me play in her office dozens of times while my father fought, had offered me his vacated spot when I struggled to keep my tiny family afloat after being orphaned at age eighteen, and was the closest thing to a parental figure I had left.

So I obeyed her command and elaborated as best I could without mentioning supernatural elements that Ma Scrubbs may or may not have picked up on by now. “I can’t win against those two,” I explained. “It’s just not possible. Pick someone else for the first fight then I’ll go in for round two.”

Ma Scrubbs considered me from the far side of the desktop, her head barely visible above the cluttered surface. If I was small, she was wizened, face so wrinkled it was impossible to guess what the seventy-year-old might have looked like when she was young. After a moment of consideration, she shrugged, pulling a battered notebook out of one pocket. “Go home then,” she told me. “I’ll call the Raven sisters in to fight.”

“No!” The word burst from my lips before I could soften the rejection. “They’re children! They’ll be slaughtered!”

“Not against those two. Gunner and Ransom are boy scouts. First blood will be a nick on the cheek. Won’t even scar. And next week, ticket sales will skyrocket out of sight.”

So she was aware of the existence of werewolves. No human would refer to a four-legged shifter in the same breath as his two-legged companion unless she fully understood the former’s ability to change forms.

Still, I had no time to further analyze that fact because Ma Scrubbs wasn’t even looking at me any longer. Instead, she pulled out her cell phone and began thumbing through her address book, stopping only when the faces of Jessie and Charlie Raven popped into view. The twins were sweet young things who I’d mentored for a couple of summers. Despite my best efforts, though, the duo still thought fencing was a sport in which you didn’t hit below the belt or above the neck. They had no concept werewolves existed and they were barely older than my kid sister. If I didn’t allow Kira to sit in the Arena’s audience, I certainly wasn’t going to be responsible for Jessie and Charlie ending up within the Arena’s cage.

So even though I knew I was being played, I reached out and blocked the phone’s surface with my hand. “Okay, you win,” I answered. Took a deep breath, considered the angles. I couldn’t use my supernatural speed to its full advantage against a pair of werewolves, but there had to be a way to turn my opponents’ cockiness against them.

If there was, Ma Scrubbs surely would have thought of it. “And you clearly have a plan,” I continued. “So let’s hear it.”

“It’s simple,” my boss answered, her eyes twinkling with old-lady mirth. “You’ve been winning, winning, always winning. Nobody’s gonna bet against you. So tonight, you’ll reset the clock. Tonight…you’ll lose.”

I’m afraid that’s all the excerpt I have for you today. But stay tuned — Wolf’s Bane will be available on all retailers at special launch pricing next week.

Wolf’s Bane: Chapter 2 Scene 1

If you’re just tuning in, you’ll want to start at the beginning….

I wouldn’t dream of heading into battle without my black leather jacket and knee-high boots, but there was more to this gig than fighting. So I showed up at the Arena an hour later in a baby-pink blouse, ruffled neckline drooping low enough to show off my nearly nonexistent boobs. I tied up my hair in two above-the-ear pigtails. And I splashed enough smoky blue and silver eye shadow on either side of my nose to accentuate the slant of my half-Japanese eyes.

The effect wasn’t me…but I’d do a lot to put food on the table for my sister. In this case, unfortunately, a lot wasn’t quite enough.

“…did you hear about the hooker they found dead down by the river last week…”

“…new bar with two-for-one appetizers…”

“…wouldn’t bet against Mai if you paid me to…”

The news of the day swirled around me in a cloud of horrors, excitement, and—unfortunately—overwhelming appreciation for my prowess. As if to prove the last point, a meaty hand came down on my shoulder as a random audience member congratulated me on my most recent win. “Nice job against those bozos,” he boomed.

The male in question was a head and shoulders taller than my five-feet-zero frame, and he likely could have lifted me off the ground with one arm tied behind his back. Still, his posture radiated respect for more than the length of my rapier…which should have filled me with much-deserved pride.

Unfortunately, my boss had been using the unlikely disconnect between my appearance and my skill level to her financial advantage for nearly a decade. It was a lucrative proposition—toss the tiny street girl out against a gang of heavy hitters, bet on the underdog, and watch the cash roll in. Since my ten percent of the take paid the rent, having members of the audience betting for me rather than against me could very well turn into a financial disaster for both Ma and myself.

Drat and blast! What did it take to be underestimated in this town?

Before I could decide which evasive action to take, though, I glanced toward the other side of the stadium where my opponents usually held court. Best to see what kind of warrior Ma Scrubbs had dug up before I decided between the damsel-in-distress routine and the fake-wound walk….

New fighters were always easy to pick out due to the contestants’ banners slung across their chests. And I was ready for any number of them. After all, I’d faced down five opponents just last month, forgetting myself and knocking the quintet down like dominoes with a few short swipes of my sword.

But during that ill-matched contest, I hadn’t been forced to hide my abilities. Had been facing humans only, without a single werewolf in sight.

Now, as I eyed one tall male and one erect-ruffed four-legger, I not only recognized the abilities of the shifters before me, I also knew immediately who they were. The man standing on two legs possessed uncannily familiar features for all that I’d never set eyes on his face before. And no wonder when he smelled identical to the wolf panting by his side, both boasting the same deep musk that lingered on my tongue despite every effort to wash their granite and ozone signature out of my brain.

No, these opponents weren’t strangers. Or at least the wolf wasn’t. Instead, this was the self-same shifter who had accosted my sister on the cemetery wall earlier in the afternoon.

Meanwhile, the two-legged shifter’s words were just barely audible with the help of my own supernaturally assisted hearing. “Of course this is a good idea,” the male murmured on the other side of the chattering crowd. His voice was gritty with rebellion, which struck me as strange since I could smell his dominance from fifty feet distant. “You know the evidence leads here.”

Evidence? Were these werewolves hunting something? Could they possibly be seeking me?

Whether that conclusion was grounded in reality or in pure paranoia, I’d risk too much by fighting fellow shifters unaware of my closely held secret. So I turned on my heel and stalked off in the opposite direction.

It was time to hold a serious conversation with my boss.

Click here to keep reading Wolf’s Bane….

Wolf’s Bane: Chapter 1 Scene 2

If you’re just tuning in, you’ll want to start at the beginning….

For half a second, they wobbled there together atop tilting chunks of concrete. One girl who hid a secret punishable by death. And one predator who was willing and able to perform said execution.

Beneath them, I clenched my fist around the strobing ball of light shielded by the fabric of my pants pocket while at the same time assessing possible approaches. The trouble was, while I could jump directly onto the wall from my current location, doing so would be royally stupid within view of an alpha werewolf. But ascending in a human manner would mean running halfway down the block to the gateway Kira had so agilely leapt across…while leaving my sister unprotected in the interim.

So I stood for one endless second mimicking a stranded fish, mouth gaping and metaphorical fins flapping while I tried to decide which approach was least likely to get my sister killed. Meanwhile, beneath my clothes, the incorporeal light that held half my soul oozed out of my pocket, slid around my hip, and slowed at last in the empty scabbard strapped to my back. There the ice-cold tendrils of my star ball lengthened and solidified into my favorite weapon—a rapier-thin sword, just waiting to be drawn and wielded against the unwary.

The entire magical manipulation—plus associated brain freeze—had taken only a second, one blink of the eye during which my sister’s assailant didn’t appear to notice he had any audience other than one twelve-year-old child. His slender fingers had neither loosened nor tightened, and he spoke now in a voice so deep it was dangerous. “Someone’s hunting innocents in this city. You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

Half of my brain occupied itself assessing that assertion. Was this werewolf—the most hazardous being we could possibly run up against—honestly warning my kid sister to steer clear of other predators? Or was that a threat half hidden beneath the throaty timbre of his overtly protective words?

But most of my attention remained focused on planning out my subsequent actions. I couldn’t toss the sword to Kira and risk her being cut on an edged weapon, not when the twelve-year-old still used training blades in the school gymnasium where I taught. And was it even a good idea to provide a weapon in the first place when anything I threw upwards could just as easily end up in the lightning-quick hands of an overpowering alpha?

While other possibilities flicked through my brain with the force of strobe lights, Kira answered back as airily as if she and this werewolf were chance-met friends chatting during a stroll through the park. “Oh, I’m not alone,” she said blithely. “I’ve got Mai.”

“Your what?”

“No, not ‘my.’ Mai.”

Which is when I decided that running up the three-inch-wide staircase created by the cracking wall was almost easy enough to appear human. After all, the werewolf’s fingers remained poised inches away from my sister’s jugular. Didn’t Kira realize that a being so powerful inevitably thought anything he could hold onto was his to keep?

So, relinquishing all concern about appearing human, I took the first two steps up the side of the wall in one lunging leap. Then I froze as the male’s chin tilted down toward me.

His eyes were windows I was unprepared to gaze into. Piercing and assessing and, at the same time, as deep and full of mystery as the bottom of a well. He quirked arching eyebrows, the faintest hints of crows’ feet appearing at his temples…only to fade as he took in the rapier I’d unconsciously extended to prod against his jeans-clad calf.

“Ah, I see,” the male answered. “You are quite admirably protected. My mistake.”

Then, without so much as nudging the sharpened steel away from his flesh, the werewolf released my sister’s shoulders and offered me a perfunctory half-bow. He was as lithe as a swordsman, his body as perfectly proportioned as a statue hailing from ancient Greece.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mai.” And to my sister—“Mind your balance, child.” With that parting shot, the werewolf slid back out of my sight line, disappearing into the cemetery as quickly as he’d materialized in the first place.

And me? I was left with a hint of sweetness on my lips that reminded me of near-forgotten teenage kisses. Swiping one hand across my mouth to remove the tell-tale flavor, I jerked my chin at my sister. “We need to get you home.”

After all, my second job was calling. Cage fights wait for no woman.

Click here to keep reading….

Wolf’s Bane, Chapter 1 Scene 1

Ready to dive into a new adventure? I hope you enjoy the beginning of Wolf’s Bane…

The first time my mother spoke to me from beyond the grave, my little sister was defying gravity.

“The nail that sticks out gets hammered down,” the disembodied voice of my dead mother noted inside my head just as a very real Kira called out: “Look, Mai! I’m flying!”

Jolting at Mama’s unexpected intrusion, I swiveled to take in my sister’s long legs scampering atop the six-foot high-wall at the edge of the cemetery. I usually didn’t pay much attention to Kira’s affinity for gymnastics in high places. But it wasn’t every day a long-dead Japanese woman tapped on the inside of my skull and demanded that I take notice.

So—“Careful!” I called just as Kira’s right foot touched down on a section of wall where the weight of the hillside had pushed the cinder blocks out at an angle, ivy and dirt promising to send the unwary tumbling off her stride.

“I know what I’m doing!” my sister replied, tossing her head and rolling her eyes just like she’d done yesterday and the day before and the day before that while walking home from school. All the while human feet pranced through the debris with the agility of a fox, proving that she was right and I was wrong. My concern—and the warning from our dead mother—had been for nothing.

Or so it seemed until my sister raised her chin toward the surprisingly bright March sunshine, closed her eyes to better soak up the warmth…and ran smack dab into the largest male body I’d seen in my life.

A moment earlier, I could have sworn that the cemetery—or at least what I could see of it from the recessed sidewalk—was entirely devoid of life. But now my little sister’s shoulders were caught in the grip of hands that could oh-so-easily slide upward to settle around her unprotected neck. Veins stood out from the assailant’s rippling muscles. And I didn’t need to lift my nose to the breeze to understand what had taken place.

Kira had been waylaid by our worst possible enemy—an alpha male werewolf.

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