Decadent Publishing will launch a brand new shifter line, Black Hills Wolves, in January, 2015.
The line is a multi-authored shared world. That means that certain things remain the same in all stories. The town the Black Hills Wolves live in is Los Lobos, in South Dakota. There's a bar operated by a mysterious were-bear named Gee. There's an alpha, Drew Tao, whose story was written by the series creator, Rebecca Royce. There's an enforcer, Ryker, whose story was written by Heather Long.
My entry is WOLF'S SONG, story of Brick Northridge, a lone, rogue wolf who ran afoul of the former alpha, Magnum Tao, Drew's father, when Brick was 18. Beaten to a pulp and banished from the pack, he's lived a life of seclusion in a cabin in the woods for ten years, trying to deal with the voices in his head. Watching over him and loving him from afar is the heroine, Summer McCoy, born into a rival clan of feline shifters, a skinwalker whose preferred form is a raven. And therein hangs the tale.
Look for the Black Hills Wolves and WOLF'S SONG in early 2015!
Ten years ago, visions of death and the babble of lupine voices in his head, drove lone wolf Brick Northridge to challenge his cruel and greedy pack alpha. Beaten by the alpha’s thugs and banished from the pack, Brick lives a life of seclusion in a mountain cabin in the Black Hills.
Born into a rival clan of feline shifters, skinwalker Summer McCoy, in her guise as a raven, watches Brick from afar, giving him back a reason to live through her sweet songs and special gifts.
But when her clan attempts to tear them apart and threatens the pack that banished Brick so many years before, will their love be strong enough to withstand the forces ben on their destruction?
She did not move, except to lower her raised arm from its frozen position. “Why do you call me that…? Annabel Lee?”
“I don’t have another name.”
“Summer,” she said. “I’m Summer.”
Yeah. Def. When the berries plumped sweetest. “Suits you.” His raging arousal made the words hoarse and jagged. Too harsh for this gentle female. “Turn,” he murmured. “I want to see your face.” A low growl escaped him before he could bite it back. “Your breasts.”
She turned then, slowly through the water, rounding to face him.
He sucked in his breath, his heart slamming against his chest. She was stunning and glorious. The beads of water rolling down her golden body sparkled in the sun. She glistened. All natural. No makeup. No artifice. Everything a female should be. And more. Much more.
Another pheromone cloud engulfed him. Her eyes went large and rounded, as if she guessed she’d zapped him with her hormonal lures, but couldn’t help emitting her sex juice any more than he could. Her nose twitched and she sighed, as if enveloped in a vat of melted chocolate, or whatever the fuck his own mating scent smelled like. He could only hope he gave off an aroma as rich and delicious as she did.
He struggled to control the raw savagery of his attraction and had to tear his eyes from her face. But her breasts…God, her breasts. Full and high, the exact size to fill his large hands, rose tips jutting toward him. He remembered how she’d touched herself, how much he’d wanted to replace her hands with his. Hell. He wanted to bury his face between those breasts, lapping at her, licking and sucking, take each one into his mouth, between his lips, grazing the pointed nipples with his teeth until he tore moans of delight from her.
His throat closed, his tongue swelling, filling his suddenly dry mouth, cutting off his ability to utter either animal sounds or inane words. After a beat or two of silence, she glanced away.
“What do you think?” Not shy exactly. Expectant. An undercurrent of doubt laced her question, as if she could not bear to disappoint him, and did not know what to make of his continued speechlessness.
“Perfect.” He rubbed his eyes. “Ah, Christ. You’re perfect.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You are to me.”
Coming early 2015. Stay tuned!