Read An Excerpt

by Juliana Stone

Genre: Paranormal Romance, Shapeshifter, Paranormal/Urban Fantasy

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“Hey dick-head, I’m talking to you! Give me one good reason why I should help you?” Jaden shouted.

He stopped abruptly and she nearly ran into the back of him. His body was hot. She could feel the heat scorch the air.

He turned around and she took a step back, her chest heaving as she struggled to calm herself. His muscled frame was draped in casual cotton, the light coloured fabric a foil against his tanned skin. The open collar drew her gaze to the pulse that beat strong and steady at his throat and she swallowed thickly, her mouth suddenly dry.

His long legs were encased in faded jeans, the kind that hung low, in fact she could see the taut skin of his belly as he lifted his arm and ruffled the hair at his neck. Even though Mexico was hot as sin, his feet were encased in the same pair of boots he’d worn the night before. The man was seriously lethal. Too bad he was such an asshole.

“You done?”

Her eyes jerked back up to his. “Done?”

“Checking me out. I thought you saw enough last night, but hell, if we have time—“

“Fuck-you Castille.”

“Seems to me you already did.” He whispered softly, the tone of his voice dangerous like dark chocolate.

Her arm flew out as the anger inside of her erupted. She felt the power of her jaguar gather and aimed her fist for his nose. But he grabbed her just above the wrist before she made contact and twisted until a whimper eventually fell from her lips.

Her chest was heaving, small spurts of air escaping from between her lips. She tried to pull away but he refused to let her go.

“I don’t have time for games. If the portal is not found…if Cormac is not stopped, all hell will break loose in the human realm and trust me, if that happens, I will be the least of your worries. There will be such madness, chaos and pain…” His voice trailed off and Jaden’s gut twisted as fear began to grow.

Deep within the recesses of his eyes something flickered, something haunted. She swallowed heavily and whispered, “let me go.”

He held her for several long moments, his eyes never leaving hers and then gently withdrew his hand.

She stood there, rubbing her throbbing wrist as her mind fragmented into a thousand different directions. Julian Castille had not been vacationing in Club Med for the last six months. He’d been someplace dark, twisted.

He knew what was coming.