Dire Wolves: White Heat by Shelby Morgen

Dire Wolves: White Heat


by Shelby Morgen

Cover art: Bryan Keller

ISBN: 978-1-60521-479-5

Genre(s): Paranormal, Action/Adventure

Theme(s): Werewolves

Series: Dire Wolves (Multi-Author)

Length: Novella

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1474

Blurb:
Time to take down the fanatical Human Defense League. The Ulfhednar Council's got just the men for the job. But the last thing Jake Parker wants is a partner. Especially not another Alpha wolf -- and definitely not the man who stole his woman.


Heather Grant's got far too much experience working with stubborn males. She figures it would serve both Alphas right if their pride blows their cover. But someone's got to salvage the mission. What she doesn't count on is her instant reaction to Jake Parker's wolf. Just the scent of this particular Alpha's got her hormones racing.

How's a man supposed to concentrate with an utterly sexy Dire Wolf bitch flashing her tail at him? If he gets out of this mission alive, Jake swears he's going to kill the woman. Or claim her.

Excerpt:
Dire Wolves: White Heat


Shelby Morgen

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2010 Shelby Morgen



This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.



"Jackpot."

"No shit." At least two dozen more M16s, equipped with four rail hand guards, scopes, and collapsible stocks, as well as a couple M50 machine guns, and stack after stack of tactical readiness packs full of thirty round mags. Fuck. There was enough ammo in this room alone to take out Denver.



Not to mention the case cleaner, loading press, and crimper. The air reeked of silver. If he'd ever had any doubt --



"What the hell are you two doing?"



Jake resisted the urge to spin on his heel and land an elbow in the chest of the person who'd managed to sneak up behind him -- but only because the whispered voice belonged to a woman. No matter how deep undercover he was, he didn't hit women.



He might shoot her, but there was no way he was going to hit her.



A glance over his shoulder almost made him regret that decision. Heather Grant. Of all the gin joints... "What the hell are you doing here?"



"My job. Which is to get your sorry asses out of whatever cluster-fuck you two have gotten yourselves into."



John Wolfe treated Heather to a throaty growl of disapproval. "We're doing fine, thanks. Who's this?" He addressed the question to Jake, though he didn't take his attention off the woman.



Jake sighed. "My wife."



"Your what?"



Jake took a small bit of satisfaction in the bigger man's obvious surprise. "I told you I wasn't after Doc Grier." Which was the truth. Mostly.



The Council had decided Wolfe needed backup on this mission. They neglected to ask. Though that was nothing new. The Council never really asked anyone. They just issued orders. So here Jake was, trying to run an undercover op, sandwiched between the big, rangy wolf who thought Jake was after his woman, and Heather, the hard-headed handler who'd played the role of his wife for the last five years. Really. Could life get any better?



John frowned at them speculatively. "Zan said you were married, but..."



"Would you two shut the fuck up before you get us all killed? Between the two of you you're about as subtle as a herd of moose."



Red hair and a temper to match. Not to mention a killer bod that looked even better in tight fitting jeans and that scrap of camo. Jake grinned, enjoying her fit of pique. Maybe he'd tell Wolfe they weren't really married, and then again, maybe he wouldn't. This could be fun. Wolfe had it coming, too, after the way he'd been acting so proprietary around Doc Grier. Two Alpha wolves. One woman. A recipe for disaster.



The heavy tread of boots in the corridor brought an immediate halt to the get-to-know-you bullshit.



Before Jake had time to react, Heather dove at Jake, landing with her legs wrapped around his waist and her lips plastered over his in what had to be the least romantic kiss of his life. Though, perversely, his cock sprung to immediate attention. Had to be a proximity thing, because there was nothing even vaguely sexy about getting shot.



"Hey! You there! What the hell are you two doing in here?" Wolfe's voice sang out loud enough to wake the dead.



The sudden appearance of multiple M16s had an immediate calming effect on Jake's libido. He peeled Heather off his waist and set her on the floor, pushing her protectively behind him. "Dude, if you have to ask..."



"I can see what you're doing, idiot. Why are you doing it here? In this room? In this building? This area's supposed to be secure!"



Wolfe was way too into his role, Jake thought with a barely disguised grin. But it was working. The guards immediately moved to back up their new head of security.



There were three of them, all armed to the teeth. With a bit of a distraction, Jake might be able to take down two of them, but three? Not unless he went wolf...



"For fuck's sake, Val, it's a closet. Where the hell else are we supposed to make out?" Val. Trust Heather to get their cover names right. He'd find out what the hell hers was and what she was doing here later. Damn the Council and their interfering ways, anyway. Though right now, she was damn handy.



Wolfe wasn't the only one who could play his part. Jake turned on Heather, pouring his frustration into his act. "Look, woman, if you don't clean up that raunchy mouth of yours, we're not going to be making out anywhere. You got a mouth like a toilet on you, you know that?"



"You didn't say that when it was wrapped around that little prick of yours, did you?"



"You didn't say it was little then, either. More like Oh, Burt, you're so big... Oh, Burt, give it to me harder! I should have listened to my mother." (Who'd told him, Go to medical school. The pack needs more doctors.)



It wasn't easy to defy your mother, especially when she was a Dire Wolf. And a member of the Ulfhednar Ruling Council. If he got shot out here, she'd never forgive him.



"All right! All right! That's enough," Wolfe barked. "We got a mission to prepare for. You two deserve each other. Get the hell out of here."



Jake reached for Heather and she ducked away, sliding between the men and heading for the doorway. "Besides, you said you like it when I talk dirty."

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Dire Wolves: Silence by Lena Austin

 

 

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Blurb:

 

“One funeral wasn’t enough for you?” said the kidnapper’s note…

Deafened in an attempted murder, Detective Cameron Douglas is involuntarily retired from the force, despite his willingness to continue with the investigation of the murder of the mayor’s secretary. Now, it’s personal.

ENT therapist Noel Miller is a vampire with a few scars of his own. He wants to be more than Cam’s interpreter and instructor in deaf culture. He could help Cam, if only the werewolf will let him into his life and heart.

Then the murderer strikes again. Right at Cam. 

Excerpt:

“Danse Macabre” was a lousy choice for a ring tone, but Detective Cameron Douglas always thought about it when he had the least amount of time to change the ring to something else. The tune was the last he’d ever hear. Cam didn’t know that sad fact, or he’d have changed the ring sooner.

Cam snatched the phone out of his pocket and flipped it open as soon as he saw it was his boss, Lt. Kraynak. “Hey, Mark! You caught me just leaving the mayor’s office.”

“Yeah?” Mark’s voice always sounded nervous, but at that moment, he sounded as squeaky as a girl. Cam always wondered if Mark was as closet gay as Cam himself. “How’d it go?”

Cam sighed. The investigation into the death of the mayor’s secretary, Margaret Lund, was supposed to be kept very quiet and low-key. “We got the blood from her apartment at the lab, looking for DNA. They seem to be consistent with the defensive marks found on her body despite floating around in the St. John’s River for a while. I’ve got a few good leads.” He had to be vague. Cam couldn’t exactly tell his boss he was a werewolf and he’d caught an odd, masculine scent in Margaret’s apartment. He knew any sort of masculine odor didn’t belong in that apartment because Margaret and his mother had been lovers for over twenty years. Not exactly what you want the whole world to know. Mom had been in the closet all her life, and he wasn’t about to out her when she was mourning “Aunt Maggie’s” death. Dad would turn over in his grave, the day care she’d run for fifteen years would close, and her life would be in ruins. What she and Maggie had enjoyed just wasn’t ever going to be public, and that wasn’t admissible evidence anyway.

He could see it now. Him, on the witness stand. “Yes, Your Honor. I’m a werewolf you see, and I sniffed this odor…” He winced, even to himself.

“I don’t like it, Cam. You shouldn’t be on this case. Ms. Lund was your mother’s best friend. You could be called prejudiced in court.” Mark popped another gumball in his mouth. Cam heard it rattle against his teeth before it crackled as he chewed it into oblivion. Mark’d been trying to quit smoking again, and kept a gumball bank on his desk.

“I don’t like it, either, Mark. Where His Honor got the idea I’d be the only detective who could do the job is beyond me.” Cam was in sight of his car at last. The covered parking garage across the street from City Hall was a piece of shit like all the rest of downtown. Half the security cameras didn’t work at the best of times, and the roof leaked whenever it rained. So where was he parked? On the roof. In the rain. Of course. So he was wet. It was Florida. Not like he would melt. He was a werewolf, not a witch, and this wasn't Hollyweird.

The beep in his ear made him jump, and the caller ID told him it was Mom. "Hey, I'm at my car. Hang on a sec." Cam flipped over to his mother’s call and sat down on a bench about fifty feet from his car, in the shelter covering the elevator. "Hi, Mom." He frowned and noticed the hood of his car was slightly ajar. That was odd. He distinctly remembered changing the oil the previous Sunday and slamming the hood closed because he hated working in the hot sun.

            He never heard her answer. Hell, he never heard anything except the biggest boom on the planet. 

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Dire Wolves: White Out by Shelby Morgen

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Dire Wolves: Whiteout

by Shelby MorgenCover art: Marteeka Karland

ISBN: 978-1-60521-464-1

Genre(s): Paranormal, Action/Adventure

Theme(s): Werewolves, BBW

Series: Dire Wolves (Multi-Author)

Length: Novella

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1430

Blurb:

As soon as she sees her newest patient, veterinarian Suzanne Grier knows he's no normal wolf. Zanne and her colleagues at Alaska's Wolf Sanctuary have always believed the Dire Wolves exist -- and they believe just as strongly in keeping their existence a secret. Zanne's never fought so hard to save a wolf -- or a man. The doctor can treat the wounded body, but only the woman can heal his wounded heart.
It's been years since John's felt the touch of a woman's hand. Zanne gives him a reason to want to live as a man again. But wolves mate for life. Before he can make that kind of promise, he's got unfinished business to take care of. A wolf defends what's his.
Wolf's got a silver bullet to return to its owner.
Excerpt:
Dire Wolves: Whiteout
Shelby Morgen
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Shelby Morgen

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
His breath came in deep, heavy pants that rattled his ribcage with every leaping stride, sending out moisture laden clouds which froze to his eyelashes in spiky crusts. And still he ran. He ran on instinct, blindly following paths he'd trodden for years, stumbling now and again on terrain he could see only in his mind.
Would have been a full moon tonight, were it not for the snow. He pictured the long expanse of tundra before him, frosted white, and desolate.
Instead he saw nothing. White out. Snow so dense it stung his nose with every breath.
Better this way. He wasn't the only one running blind.
His own fault, really. He'd been too easy a target. But he'd wanted to get home before the storm hit.
And now he'd never see home again.
Pain tore through him with every step. He'd been wounded before. Shot, even. Shot at more times than he'd care to admit. Enough times he should have known better. His kind couldn't afford to expose themselves. Not even at night. Not even at the start of a blizzard that promised the worst of winter's wrath.
This time, though... this time was different. This time was worse. Far, far worse. This time the pain slashed through him like a knife in his ribs with every shuddering breath he drew.
This time he wasn't going to heal.
Oh, it'd sealed over. He wasn't going to bleed to death. He'd die slow. Eventually, when he couldn't go on any more, he'd stumble, and this time he'd not get up. The cold would provide an escape from the unrelenting agony of the bullet buried deep in his side. When the pain finally brought him to his knees, when the cold won, he knew he'd feel warm again, for a bit. Then he'd feel nothing at all. Not such a bad way to go, really.
Except for the god-awful, burning pain.
The winds calmed as suddenly as they'd picked up, allowing the soft haze of the moonlight to penetrate the thickly falling snow. His nose told him what he should have known, would have known, had he been more alert. The pain was dulling his senses. He stopped, staring ahead into the night. The lights danced on the snow like faerie fire. The scene before him would have been beautiful, if not for the stench.
Garbage. Waste. Corruption. Pollutants. It all reeked of humanity.
Was that where he'd been going? Unconsciously seeking them out, the ones who might be able to help him?
Would they?
No. It was their kind who'd shot him.
Better to die as he'd lived. Out here. Alone. Die as a wild thing. The only ones who'd ever know would be his own kind. The snow would cover him, blanket his body until spring thaw. Then someone would come across him, here, too close to the city, like a marker, a warning. Stay away from the humans. This is what they do to us.
They've killed me.
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Dire Wolves: Blind Spot by Cynthia Sax

Read an excerpt

Dire Wolves: Blind Spot by Cynthia Sax cover art by Bryan Keller ISBN: 978-1-60521-156-5 Genre(s): Paranormal Theme(s): Werewolves Series: Dire Wolves (Multi-Author) Length: Novella

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1401

Blurb:
Once Pavel was an alpha of a powerful wolf pack. Now he is a lone wolf; a scarred, one-eyed beast no one can rely on. When a small, sexy she-wolf calls for protection, he knows he's not the wolf for the job. He does agree to train her to defend herself so she can earn her place in a pack. He doesn't plan on falling in love, and he absolutely will not under any circumstances claim her for his own.
Excerpt:
Dire Wolves: Blind Spot
Cynthia Sax
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Cynthia Sax

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
A tree limb snapped in two. The sound, crisp and sharp in the evening air, came from directly behind Maggy. They were gaining on her. Pine needles crunched under her paws, the fresh scent not covering up her fear. She'd gotten lucky with this head start. While hidden in the shadows of the bar, she'd overheard a local wolf boast that he and his cronies would have her. The bartender called him Drex, and he wasn't a man who asked before he took so she fled immediately, shifting into wolf form to run on all fours. They couldn't catch her. Her lungs ached. She wouldn't allow that to happen, not again.
There were three of them and one of her. She streaked through the forest, the trees a blur around her. This was their territory. She was passing through Upper New York State on her way to nowhere. Leaves crunched inches away from her. Swallowing her pride, she howled for help. She didn't expect an answer. She'd called before and help never came. She wouldn't think of those times. Tonight would be different. Tonight she would evade her pursuers.
They were bigger, stronger wolves, and with every passing minute, the distance separating them decreased. She couldn't outrun them. She wasn't fast enough. She had to outwit the wolves. She would make them think twice about following her. She darted into a thicket of wild rose bushes, wincing as the thorns ripped at her fur.
It was a mistake. Avoiding the branches slowed her down. The male wolves simply crashed through the bushes. A head butted her hindquarters. She tripped, rolling until she landed on her feet again. Frantic, she took two more strides. Pain pierced her lower thigh. As she pulled away, razor sharp canines sliced through her hind leg. The scent of blood filled the air.
Jaws gripped her flank. A weight landed on her lower back, flattening her. She was caught. She whimpered when another set of teeth clasped onto her free hind leg, widening her stance, leaving her exposed.
Brown front legs straddled her withers. That was Drex. He was the leader. He would go first. She twisted her neck to bite him. That excited him even more, his hard cock pressing against her rump. She flung herself back against him, trying to dislodge him. Her feeble attempts did nothing. He leaned forward, grinding her face into the ground, the taste of dark earth and blood filling her mouth. She couldn't fight him. He was too strong. Maggy squeezed her eyes shut, preparing herself for what would happen next.
A menacing growl rumbled to the right of them. Before the sound registered in Maggy's brain, the weight on her back had lifted and her legs were released. She was free. She put weight on her injured hindquarters. They held for one hopeful moment before folding under her. She couldn't run. She couldn't walk. Desperate, she dragged herself less than a yard before collapsing. She could go no farther.
She curled up, licking her wounds, inventorying the damage. The cuts were deep. Although wolves healed quickly, she wouldn't heal soon enough to save herself. She looked back. The largest wolf she had ever seen stood, his back to her, facing Drex and his henchmen. He would fight three wolves for the right to fuck her.
Mate. Emotion pulsed through Maggy. The silver gray wolf felt like he belonged to her. She shook her head in an attempt to clear it. It was wishful thinking, the result of her blood loss. He couldn't be her mate. She had no mate. She had no pack. He would fuck her until he tired of her and then leave. That was what the others had done. This wolf would do the same.
The three wolves attacked as one. The lone wolf chomped down on the smallest wolf's neck and swung, tossing the body into the path of the other two. He then charged at Drex. They rolled, biting and clawing at each other. There was a crunch of teeth through bone and a yelp of pain. When they broke, Drex lay on the ground, twitching with pain, his hide sliced into blood red ribbons.
The silver wolf stood triumphant, snarling at the other two. He swung his head and Maggy swallowed a gasp. He had only one eye, and the fur on his left side from his ear to his foreleg was crisscrossed with scars. Drex's cronies backed away, their heads lowered in deference. A whining Drex inched along the ground to join them. The silver wolf waited and watched, not moving until they disappeared into the forest.
That one-eyed gaze then turned to Maggy. She smelled his arousal. It both scared and excited her. He would take her now. He was the victor. She was his prize.
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