Under a Wild Wolf Moon
Saving the wolves has become personal and dangerous for biologists Siobhan McMahon and Faelan Conroy. Someone is out to destroy the recently re-introduced Gray Wolves, as well as the couple’s centuries-old Irish Shapeshifter Clan. With the help of Faelan, Siobhan must first regain her memory of the night of her parents’ murders, which holds the secret of the evil in their midst.
The cold winter of Montana cannot stifle the growing heat between them as they struggle to protect a vanishing species and a disappearing way of life Under the Wild Wolf Moon.
Under A Wild Wolf Moon
She sputtered, “Why you arrogant, overgrown…dog!” When he ignored her and kept walking toward the cars, Siobhan bent and scooped up two large handfuls of snow, making a nice sized snowball, compacting it firmly.
Faelan was chuckling to himself, barely keeping his laughter silent, when the freezing lump hit him in the back of the head, spilling ice down the collar of his coat and shirt. Stunned, he slowly turned around to eye his assailant.
Siobhan stood, hands on her hips, glaring at him, daring him to retaliate. Unfortunately for Siobhan, she’d been raised an only child, and did not realize that retaliation was not only assured, but expected, if the sibling in question wished to retain any respect.
He dropped everything and stalked toward her. “Ye best run, little girl. ‘Cause just bein’ a girl isna’ goin’ ta help ye now.” Siobhan stood her ground and tilted her chin, goading him. He was going to have to teach her a lesson.
Just what type of lesson, he wasn’t quite sure.
But his hands itched to teach her one nonetheless.
As he drew closer, he could see the spark in her eyes. That spark, old as time, spoke to something deep inside him, something feral and primitive, understood only by instinct, and never tamed by civilized man…or woman.
The game they had begun playing had changed.
Faelan saw the realization in Siobhan’s eyes the very moment she realized it and slowly backed away, her hands held in front of her in a placating gesture.
He wanted her, needed her to run. Like any predator, he waited for her to trigger his chase reflex and then he would run her to ground, conquer her.
With a single mousy squeal, she whirled and dashed through the trees.
A smile of triumph on his face, Faelan gave chase.
Siobhan was quick, and clever. Placing trees between her and Faelan, she initially gained ground. Unfortunately for her, he was no ordinary man.
Fit and athletic, he was accustomed to singular physical labor…and he was a Shapeshifter. Shapeshifters are larger, stronger than ordinary men and Faelan, being an alpha male, was larger and stronger than most.
The centuries-old dance could have only one conclusion.
He caught Siobhan’s ankle as she scurried up an embankment, tripping her and bringing her down. He pulled her toward him no effort.
She turned on her back and kicked out at him with her free foot.
Laughing, he grabbed her ankle and, lying in the soft snow, pulled her the last few inches under him. Holding her immobile with his body he captured her flailing arms and raised them over her head, imprisoning both wrists with his left hand to leave his right free to roam at will. Though she squirmed and wiggled, trying to free herself, she only managed to incite his resolve to keep her prisoner.
When she tired and grew still, he brushed the hair off her face and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.
Siobhan stared immobile at the ardent expression in his eyes as he gently traced the lines of her face. “Ah, Siobhan. Ye be so beautiful ye seem unreal. Such perfection could drive a man ta desperation, just ta touch ye.”
“You’re kidding, right?” She giggled. “Don’t tell me that works.”
Faelan met her eyes and grinned impishly. “Ye’d be surprised.”
“Well, Mr. Smooth Talker. It's cold down here, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
He traced her lips with his index finger. “Everythin’ has its price.”
