DARK AND DANGEROUS: Six-in-One Hot Paranormal Romances Boxed Set featuring six books by six best-selling authors is out now in ebook and for a limited time only, it’s just $0.99 / 99p!
That’s right, you can get these 6 hot paranormal romance books by Felicity Heaton, Jennifer Ashley, Bonnie Vanak, Caris Roane, Laurie London and Erin Kellison for under a dollar right now.
To celebrate the release, I’m holding a huge week-long international giving away where you could win a $50 or $25 Amazon Gift Card! But hurry, this giveaway ends on October 20th!
Over the coming weeks, I’m going to be sharing excerpts from this fantastic boxed set of paranormal romance books, featuring all of the books.
Today, we have an excerpt from THE MATING HUNT by Bonnie Vanak.
(Coming soon to Apple iBooks Stores)
Someone was having sex in the bathroom of Spuds Saloon.
Arianna Sanders wriggled her Spanx-clad bottom on the hard wood seat. The musky scent drifted down the hallway, tickling her nostrils. Low groans and high squeals throbbed against her eardrums.
Bad enough to be a 19-year-old unmated Lupine werewolf ripe for breeding, but to hunger for sex was pure hell.
Pure hell when you were terrified of the very thing your body craved.
Pure hell when you emitted a cloud of pheromones so powerful, you attracted everything from male werewolves to Ogres.
â€œBlame your big butt,â€ Darius had told her. â€œFrom the back, you look like a female Ogre. Hubba hubba.â€
The pack beta ended up sporting a black eye for that remark.
Sitting at a table against the brick wall, Arianna flexed her sore knuckles. Yeah, she had a fat ass. But she also had the best nose in the pack, other than Kyle, her guardian and partner in hunting. And if she and Kyle were to get a bead on three missing Lupine young, they needed information. Spuds was the place where cowboys traded gossip in Hancock, Montana.
Booted heels hooked over the barstool rungs; men lined up at the bar like cattle at a watering trough. Her nostrils flared at the stench of spilt beer and heavy cologne. A wailing country western song pounded against her temples. Damn, she hated bars, but vowed to find out what she could. The three little ones had vanished two weeks ago while hiking with their parents near Mitchell Mountain. The frantic parents contacted Amber Alert, pretending the young were Skins, the Lupine term for humans.
Her sensitive hearing picked up a few stray conversations. â€œMissing kids.â€ â€œSearched forest.â€ Arianna studied the crowd, looking for signs of nervousness as Kyle had taught her. Rugged bikers sitting at a corner table scowled at the crowd, but she scented nothing unusual.
Except at the bar. There.
Two men in sheepskin jackets studied their beer mugs as sweat oozed from their pores. Their hearts began to pound harder as talk centered on the missing young.
They knew something.
As she headed for the jukebox to eavesdrop, a woman screamed from the back room. â€œOh God, oh God!â€
Several cowboys snickered. â€œDamn, thought this was a bar, not a church,â€ one shouted out.
An embarrassed flush suffused Ariannaâ€™s body. She needed to get info and get the hell out.
Her boot heels clicked on the scuffed wood floor as she crossed the room. As she reached the jukebox, her targets pulled money from their wallets and tossed a handful of dollar bills on the bar. She strained to see their faces, but they turned and headed for the exit. Arianna followed.
A drunk staggered into her and grabbed her arm. â€œCâ€™mere, honey, you smell good. That little lady back there ainâ€™t gonna be the only one getting lucky tonight.â€
Practically drooling, the Skin looked more woozy than threatening. Dryness coated her throat. Sheâ€™d thought Skins couldnâ€™t scent her approaching heat.
Guess not. Arianna pulled away and shook her head.
His mouth flattened. â€œWith that fat ass, youâ€™re lucky Iâ€™m interested. Should be honored, bitch.â€
The insult stung. â€œWith that ugly face, youâ€™d be lucky to find a willing sheep.â€
The drunkâ€™s gaze darkened and narrowed. He grabbed her breast. â€œAt least you have some tits.â€
â€œStop it,â€ she cried out, immediately snared in a dark memory.
Dark memories surged: greedy hands groping her nubile breasts. Not again. Never again.
Claws emerged from her fingertips as she danced out of reach. Suddenly the familiar scent of sharp, crushed pine and crisp, fallen snow flooded her senses. Then a quiet, deep voice spoke. â€œLeave the little lady alone. Or else.â€
Relief filled her. Kyle.
Drunk guy sneered as Kyle slid out of the hallway shadows, zipping up his jeans. Arianna stiffened. Her guardian had caused the womanâ€™s ecstatic screams.
Wide shouldered and leanly muscled, he stood well over six feet. In a plaid shirt, tight jeans and scuffed boots, he looked like just another tall, muscular cowboy, except for the distinctive Z slashing his left cheek. Despite the scar, females found Kyle irresistible. His beast emerged during the full moon, a savage sexuality resulting from his mixed blood.
Dark brown hair peeked beneath the brim of his black Stetson, hiding his mesmerizing green eyes. They could grow sharp with impatience one minute, hot with passion the next.
Or glacial, as they did now, as he tipped back his hat.
â€œOr else what?â€ The words barely fled the drunkâ€™s mouth before Kyleâ€™s fist smashed into it. The man staggered backward, vermillion trickling from his split lip. â€œThat all you got?â€ the drunk sneered, and swung at Kyle.
Great. She groaned as the duo began to fight. Other patrons crowded around, cheering them on. Time to leave, before all the surging testosterone went turbo.
Arianna headed for the door as Kyle made dog food of the drunk, her attacker, but found it barricaded by five bulky cowboys with rapid pulses and lust-darkened gazes.
â€œHey, darling,â€ one drawled. â€œYou smell soooo good. Why donâ€™t you come here and show us a good time?â€
Her breathing ragged, Arianna fought panic. Breath fled out of her bellowing lungs. As they stalked toward her, a low growl ripped from her throat.Â Oh please, not now, I can control this. Stay in Skin. I can defend myself.
This wasnâ€™t the other time. Not chained and helpless, a scared 12-year-old facing the bad man who wanted to hurt her.
Breathing heavily as they circled, she reached for the switchblade in her back pocket. One rubbed the increasing bulge in his crotch and stalked forward. And then someone seized her from behind, forcing her to drop the knife, pinning her arms.
Logic fled, replaced by a surge of terror, triggering Lupine instinct. With a low snarl, she flung off her attacker, sending him crashing into a nearby table. Fur rippled along her arms. Her bones popped and snapped. Go for the target.
The wolf loped toward the manâ€™s groin as screams broke out.
Did you enjoy today’s excerpt?
(Coming soon to Apple iBooks Stores)