Read An Excerpt

by Amanda Carlson

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Paranormal/Urban Fantasy

 | Read Book Review

“This is your brilliant plan?” I stood knee high in the middle of a swift current, my lovely pantsuit swirling around my legs. “You know, man-eating werewolves aren’t afraid to go swimming. If our trail leads to a river, they won’t hesitate to get in.”

“Don’t worry, they aren’t following where we’re going,” Rourke said from behind me. “At least for right now.”

“How can you be so sure?” I glanced over my shoulder in time to see him step into the stream. I forgot my question for a second because he was bare-chested, his shirt and boots wrapped in his leather jacket, which was tucked safely under his bulging and ridiculously muscular arm. He had to be bigger than any wolf by a few good inches and a lot of mass. The man was a beast.

All my things were wrapped in my blazer jacket too, only I wasn’t naked from the waist up.

Thank the good heavens above I’d worn the damn camisole.

The fact that it was white hadn’t escaped me, and if Danny could see me now he’d be laughing his ass off. I’d drawn the line at dropping my pants, and Rourke had kept his on without question. It would’ve been a lie to say I hadn’t been a tiny bit interested in seeing what he had underneath his jeans—or more accurately, my wolf had been extremely interested in what was there, but I was ignoring her.

We had far more important things to worry about.

Somewhere along the line, after trying to fight it repeatedly, I’d realized my father’s command for me to Go had been a strong one—too strong. I wasn’t going to shed it easily. It wrapped around me even now, compelling me to stay with protection and not turn back. My wolf gave me an irritated snap, directing me back to her thoughts.

I’m sorry, but you’re not getting your way. We’re not lifting tail for every good-looking guy we come across. Plus, this one happens to be a highly trained mercenary. Remember? We are here against our will. Don’t forget it.

It was safe to say my wolf and I were still coming down from a major adrenaline rush, and knowing how the last one had ended, I was being extremely careful to keep my lusty thoughts in check.

Instead I’d plied myself with a bucket of beef jerky I’d bought at our last stop. It wasn’t a comparable substitute for sex, but I’d had to work with what was available.

I watched the water tease the legs of Rourke’s well-worn jeans as he waded deeper into the stream. I tore my gaze from his completely defined stomach as he hoisted his clothes higher in the air. As his arms went above his head, I noticed two tattoos flowing along the inside of each forearm. They were geometric, and beautifully drawn in a deep black ink. My wolf licked her lips. I did love tattoos. Damn.