Wolves and other assorted characters…

I’m working on too many projects at once?! How is a girl supposed to keep track of all this? I’ll try to give a rundown of what’s coming up in the next few months:

October 2–Betrayed releases with Hartwood Publishing. This is the 6th book in the Wolf Gathering series. It’s also the last book in that series. BUT, never few, there is a spin-off series called WERE Force that will release in the latter part of next year. 🙂

December 4–Need releases with Hartwood Publishing. This is the 3rd book in The Fight Club series. Loving this series. There will be six books. I’m currently writing the fourth. Each book features a different hero from the group of six guys who all belong to the same BDSM club and enjoy mixed martial arts.

January 20–Bound to be Tested releases with Samhain Publishing. This is the 3rd book in the Emergence series. It’s BDSM and this book has a bit of F/F in it. 😉

February 7–Hers releases with Hartwood Publishing. This is the fourth book in The Fight Club series. I’d better get that one written… Oh, look, a squirrel!

March 7–Drum roll please!!! Exciting new series releases that I wrote with another author who is so amazing I want to kiss her! Should I? I guess I could. Anyway, her name is Lindsay Paige. She is fresh and new and fantastic and you won’t believe how talented she is. We wrote this series together. It’s called The Art of Kink, and the first book is called Pose. BDSM whose characters are all connected to an art studio in some way. You will love love this project! And I can’t wait to release some snippets! Soon. I promise.

So many more books are scheduled for the rest of next year! But that gives you an idea of what’s to come. 2015 is going to rock!



Prymal Obsession, Book Two, in the PRYMAL series Available for Pre-Order!

What a way to start a week!

Not only is Prymal Obsession now available for pre-order at Amazon: tinyurl.com/oh9uz2m

But, in addition, The BookChick created an awesome trailer for Prymal Obsession!

Incredible, n’est pas?

Makes me wish I had an oomph of talent graphic and movie-wise. Sadly, I don’t.

Merry Monday and So-long September (almost).



The Legend of Sarah Latham

Okay, okay, I know I missed last week’s post. I’m so sorry! It just slipped my mind. The line for my spanking forms to the left. May it be long and slow going. 😉

Now back to our regularly scheduled program…

I have a new release coming OCTOBER 3!! Well, my alter ego does. And it is a beaut. This thing was started well over a year ago, put on a shelf, ignored, denied, and then finally reworked. Why all the struggle? It is my very first attempt at paranormal and I was a wee bit stressed about embarrassing myself. But I couldn’t deny it any longer. I love this book, these characters, and this story line. This is a free read, so if you hate it…which you won’t!!…at least you didn’t pay for it!

Why free? Well, because of the aforementioned venture into new territory, and because I love you guys and I love Halloween and since I can’t toss Kit Kats into your bags, I’ll give you this instead…



Nearly four hundred years ago, Sarah Latham and William Fuller disappeared without a trace. Legend has it she was a wicked witch and he was her demon. Legend also has it that whenever a Latham descendant reaches thirty years of age, Sarah comes to drag them to Hell.

Good thing twenty-nine year old Elizabeth Latham doesn’t believe in legends. Or at least she didn’t until she happened upon a woman in the family cemetery who just happened to look an awful lot like the paintings in the local museum.

Elizabeth is determined to stay ground in reality, but her idea of reality is shattered when she realizes Sarah and William have returned. But Elizabeth quickly realizes that Sarah is about as far from wicked as William is from being a demon. So if Sarah hasn’t been killing generations of Lathams…who has?


Actually, the cabin wasn’t a terrible replica of the home she had shared with the Latham men. Her gaze immediately lifted to the loft where the boys had slept. The fireplace to her left had a huge kettle hanging from a hook and a wooden table had chairs surrounding it, closely resembling the home she’d made.

A Voodoo doll with Xs stitched for eyes and pins sticking out of it hung in the window. She’d never done that; such a brazen act would have brought suspicion of witchery from her neighbors. She guessed that was what the museum was going for—the blatant signs of witchcraft that legends were made of.

A stuffed black cat sat on a chair, forever stuck with its paw in the air and its mouth open, as if it would hiss eternally. The Lathams had never owned a cat. Sarah loathed cats then and now. Black felines were just another stereotype blown completely out of proportion.

There were a few wicked witches, a few black cats, a few covens that summoned demons from Hell, and for all time witches were supposed to have black cats, pointy hats, and Satan on speed dial. She shook her head, offended that this was part of her legend.

A stand in the middle of the room with a glass case over it summoned her.

“Jasper,” she breathed. She bypassed all the other trinkets and displays and went straight for the book. His journal. The journal she’d given him and protected with a spell so long ago was there and was nearly as perfect as it had been then.

The book lay opened to a page with a drawing. She’d always been amazed by his artistic ability. He could put charcoal to paper and make the most lifelike images appear with just a few strokes and smudges.

Her smile fell when she stood over the picture exposed to museum visitors. A drawing of her. A perfect drawing in fact. Four hundred years later and she looked exactly as she had in the drawing he’d made. In the drawing her dark hair was pulled up and tucked under a bonnet, her clothes were from the old days, but her light eyes, high cheekbones, and full lips were the same.

“Whoa,” Elizabeth said, standing next to Sarah. She looked from the drawn Sarah to the live one. “Remember how I said you kind of looked like Sarah Latham? I take that back. You are a dead ringer for Sarah Latham.”

Watch the trailer here!

Get The Legend of Sarah Latham here for FREE on October 3, 2014!


Your Digital Assets … Plan Ahead

I just finished two very long and intensive days of legal continuing education. This always jump starts that legal part of my brain.

One of the topics in the two-day legal fest is always estate planning.  So, I come home from Day One and find the current issue of MORE magazine has arrived and has a very timely article on “digital estate  plans.”

Fate?  Karma? Obviously, the universe is trying to tell me something.

To be honest – I never thought about my digital assets and what would happen after I’m gone.  And I should have.  Lawyers worry about shit like that.

So, since I needed a blog topic and since you, like me, are hooked into the Internet world, I’m sharing what I have learned and plan to put into effect in my own estate plan.

All of us who are tied into the technology of the Internet have digital assets.  Many of them have monetary value — We paid money for them (or in the case of gaming powers and the like, we won or traded for them). They are ours. They would be classified as intangible assets, meaning they can’t be held, touched, handed over.

The obvious digital assets are things such as:

1.  Your iTunes collection;

2. Your e-books;

3. Bit coins (possibly can become tangible if it can be converted into actual currency);

4. Video game lives/ weapons/powers that I am told have value to other gamers;

5. Your PayPal account (though it can be transferred to your bank and changed out into currency and thus become tangible).

6. And others with monetary value of which I have no knowledge or are yet to come.

Those above have monetary value — worth cash money to you and me and others (including the IRS if they only thought about it).

The article in More magazine written by Laura Sinberg, citing a McAfee survey of Americans, states that many Americans value their digital assets at upwards of $55,000. Um, wow!  Personally, I think that is high, but then I look at my e-books and iTunes and those alone could be up to $4,000 to replace.

Besides assets with monetary value, there are also personal assets that mean something to you such as photos on the Cloud, your Facebook pages, your blog posts, and the like.

Another crucial aspect of your digital estate is  your whole Internet footprint — FaceBook, Twitter, Reddit, Pinterest, Amazon account, EBay account, on-line shopping accounts, and the like. This means someone, your estate’s personal representative or someone else you appoint in your Will  to specifically handle the digital matters, needs to have a list of all your on-line accounts with user names and passwords so they can close them down.

Just as your personal representative closes out/cancels bank accounts, social security numbers, PO Boxes, insurance on your car and home, magazine subscriptions, club memberships and the like, someone needs to cancel all of your on-line presence, if for no other reason so as not to allow anyone to use your name or accounts fraudulently – to prevent identify theft.

So, what do you do?

1.  Make an inventory.

You should already have one for all your tangible assets and have it in a place known by your family and your personal representative or lawyer.

Make sure that you store the user names and passwords in a safe place. Do not put the passwords/user names in the Will — Wills become public records once filed with the court. I’d put the password/user name list in a bank lock box along with a copy of the inventory and the original Will (I keep a copy of the signed Will in my home for immediate access).

That’s three (3) separate documents stored in a safe place only accessible by you and after your death your personal representative.

2. Make sure you have a digital personal representative appointed in your Will.

If you don’t have a Will, make one. In my case, my son would be both my regular personal representative and my digital personal rep. He is tech savvy and has an accounting major – so I’m okay with him handling it all.

3.  Make sure in your Will that  you tell your digital personal representative what you wish done with your digital assets.

For example, “I leave my family photos on the Cloud to my son.”  “I leave my e-book collection to my best friend, Jane Doe.”  “I wish the value of my PayPal account to be donated to the American Cancer Society in my name.” “I wish my digital personal representative to close out all my online accounts of any kind per the inventory I have left with the Will.”

By the way, the laws have not caught up with technology — a refrain often heard in my law update over the last two days — so you have to protect yourself as clearly as you can. It may not even be possible to transfer title in  some of the intangible assets — thus your personal representative might have to deal with iTunes or Amazon policies on your music and book libraries. But one thing I do know — if you put something in a Will, and the Will is legally executed, and what you have asked to have done is not against a crucial public policy or a danger to anyone, the Probate Court will order your wishes to be carried out, if at all feasible. Your Will is the last chance to speak for you and the only chance to delegate the authority to handle such matters for you when you are gone.

So, it is CYA time, my friends – take control of your digital assets’ future.  I plan on revising my will to incorporate my digital assets (and my intellectual property).



Research – Fun Facts to Know and Tell – Or Not

reading in bed

Sometimes I’m looking for a man with glasses…ahem…he’s wearing glasses

I don’t know if readers realize it or not, but I do a LOT of research for each of my books. The good news is, I don’t use it all. The bad news is, I still have all of it rolling around in my brain and filling up space on my computer. Hey, I might use it sometime.

Whether the hero has tattoos or not is as important as their placement

For Explosive Combination, I poured over maps of Colombia, looked at satellite pictures of cities and terrain, and watched YouTube videos of the areas I wrote about. I hunted Google Images for everything from the banks of the Cauca River to the clothing worn by hookers. You’d be amazed at what you can find on line. I pulled up facts on volcanoes and discovered that Purace erupts about every ten years so I sent my characters there. While exploring Cali, I found out it is a very dangerous place with more than 2,000 unsolved murders annually blamed on the drug trade and politics.

great smile on fireman

A hero’s smile needs to be great. Yes, ladies, he’s smiling. Oh, and the chest hair question may take hours to investigate.

One of my favorite things to do is hunt real estate. I used to be a Realtor, licensed in Georgia, North Carolina and Virginia. As an author, I get to pick out the houses where my characters live and since they are most often wealthy, budget isn’t a factor which makes it even more fun. Last time I showed you pictures that inspired the Girard Compound I used for Christmas in Cancun which will be out in November.

grey hair

Hair color is an item that may take hundreds of pictures before I find just the one.

By far, though, the best research is finding my hero. Sometimes it takes me hours to find just the right man. So today I’m sharing a few future heroes.


To see more of my research, check out my Pintrest page:  http://www.pinterest.com/kalyncooper/hunks-and-junks/

Can a spring chicken write romance?

You’ve all heard the expression. “She’s no spring chicken.” In other words, she or he isn’t young. Inexperienced. Green.

I certainly wouldn’t call myself a spring chicken. In fact, I don’t think I’ve been able to apply this term to myself for a few years. However, age is good. Age brings experience. Age brings wisdom. At least that is the hope.

I began my professional romance writing career after my spring chicken years. Sometimes, I wish I’d gotten started sooner. Often, I wonder if I’d now be collecting Danielle Steel-esque royalties if I’d started writing in my twenties. Nevertheless, when I look back to the girl I was then, I don’t think I’d have made a very good writer. I certainly wouldn’t have made a very good author. (Oh, and there is a difference.)

Now, that’s not to say I hadn’t experienced love in my twenties. In fact, I got married at the relatively-young age of 26. I’ve had a lot of love in my life.

But did I understand it then? I’m not sure I comprehended all its complexities.

People in their twenties are still exploring. Some explore more than others, of course. I was never much of an explorer. I didn’t date a lot. My boyfriend list can probably be counted out on one hand. But I did enjoy dreaming about men. Unfortunately, dreaming does not equal experience.

A romance writer needs, I think, to have some experience with the world. She needs to know what it’s like to have her heart ripped out of her chest. She needs to experience loss and all its devastating side effects. She needs to feel joy and rapture and the toe-curling bliss of an amazing fuck. And she also needs to know what it’s like to make love. Note how I made the two thoughts distinct? That’s right. Fucking and making love are not the same thing.

And it’s not just about love. A good romance writer should have some experience with the world at large as well. Perhaps she’s had a few career changes. Perhaps she’s toiled over spreadsheets and given presentations. She may have gone to school and stayed up all night writing last-minute papers, or she may not have seen the inside of a classroom for years. She’s failed and she’s excelled. She’s been forced out of her comfort zone many times, but she also knows what it’s like to crawl into her shell and avoid those who’ve hurt her. She may have had children or she may have made the decision not to. She might have a dozen marriage proposals in her history, or maybe she still longs for the first. Perhaps she’s had days where she’s given up on men, and the human race, altogether. And maybe she finds delight in each new day.

In other words, she’s lived.

In my opinion, with the knowledge I had in my twenties, I couldn’t have written an effective romance. I’m so glad I waited. Yes, I floundered a bit while waiting, but it all worked out for the best. Because now, when I bring you a romance, I bring you all my love and heartache and agony with it. I show you my scars and my tears. I cut my wrist and bleed into the manuscript.

I live and die for you on those pages.

And I just don’t think a spring chicken can do the same thing.

Guest Elaine Raco Chase!

I’m very pleased to introduce guest author Elaine Raco Chase today. With a steamy new release, I know she will find a place on your TBR list.

JEWEL TRAP 1800X2600

She invented him!

At least she thought she had!          

Kit Forrester lived a life of lies – so what was one more? When her first vacation ever sank like the Titanic – she couldn’t tell her friends THAT! So she did what she always did – she lied.

And told everyone about her fabulous five day cruise.  Her days of fun in the sun and moonlit nights with the man of her dreams – Rafe Morgan – tall, handsome, incredibly sexy and successful.

And well – now they were engaged!

There was just one 6’2″, 230 lb. problem –

Rafe Morgan did exist and he wanted answers.

Retired Navy SEAL and Texas business tycoon, Rafe Morgan was sure he was being set up by his suddenly acquired fiancée. He had spent 20 years in the Navy and was trained to handle anything – until he came up against one volatile New York redhead with wicked curves and the world’s hardest ass!

And then he saw her sex lair and was more than willing to be Caught in a Trap.  And to set one of his own!

Content Warning: this book is intended for mature adult readers (18+) who are not offended by profanity and explicit sex scenes. While this is a romantic comedy, some readers may find some subject matter difficult to read – unfortunately such events are true.  

Spoiler alert: please be advised that no comic books, superheroes, duct tape, handcuffs, ropes or chocolate milk were harmed during the writing of this novel.


“I’ve met men like you before, pushy and controlling. First, I’m type AB negative blood, with the emphasis on negative. So if you think you’re a modern day vampire, I am not on the menu so just forget about making me your beverage of choice.”

He shook his head and tried not to laugh. “Trust me, that won’t be a problem.” Kit’s pacing figure drew him like a magnet. The auburn braid kept hitting against her shoulder. Her thin white T-shirt was soaked with perspiration and plastered against her breasts. Even with a bra, Rafe could see the outline of her nipples, the hardened nubs pushing against the cotton. He took a deep breath and tried to focus on whatever the hell she was saying.

“And while you may like your women all submissive and cowering and calling you sir and wearing a collar or hanging from a rope or wearing fuzzy handcuffs and a blindfold or having a ball gag in their mouth – that won’t be happening. Don’t even think about nipple clamps or butt plugs or putting BenWa balls in any orifice. And you better not have a secret red walled, sound-proof room filled with assorted sex toys either.”

Rafe vaguely heard her talking nonsense because he was mesmerized by her frayed Daisy Dukes. Riley had been right, her shorts were dangerous. There was something about denim and the erotic juncture of her ass and upper thighs that was causing his stick and stones to engorge with both pleasure and pain. The crazy combination of damp T-shirt, cut-offs, and well-toned, long, tanned legs caused his internal temperature to reach the boiling point.

“I’ll pretend to be your fiancée,” Kit agreed, walking past him again, “but I’ll only be your vertical fiancée not a horizontal one.”

“Not a problem.” Rafe grabbed her shoulders, spun her around and pushed her back against the wall. “I do vertical.”


Trailer: http://youtu.be/S8I4-yJsSoE




https://itun.es/i6gs3hQ       iTunes

http://ow.ly/ApsH1    Nook

http://ow.ly/Apt4C  —  AllRomance

http://ow.ly/Aptd0     Kobo




Doctor WHO??? by Christy Gissendaner

Guys and gals, I don’t get it. I really, really don’t. What is this obsession with Doctor Freaking Who? My hubby DVR’d the marathon and I’ve listened to the bad dialogue, seen the horrible acting and (let’s be honest) none-too-attractive actors, and I’m left scratching my head….

Is it just a British thing? I mean, I love BBC’s Pride & Prejudice like the next gal (sigh..Colin Firth!), but this show just isn’t making sense to me. What’s the attraction? If I hear a metallic voice saying “….” Hell, I don’t even KNOW what it’s saying….I’ll probably scream. I swear I will.

Someone please shed some light on this for me. It’s worried me for about two weeks now as every day, my hubby starts up the show (right beside my computer) and I have to listen to it. I spin around in my chair and yell, “Will you please turn that crap down?!?” To which his answer is “It’s not crap.” Well, I beg to differ.

I’ve seen the comments on FB. Saw the headlines. But I would rather watch open-heart surgery, while eating bloody steak, on top of a pile of ants with honey slathered over my bootay. Really would.

On a sidenote, it’s Friday. Happy, happy, happy!

Fall Break and Counting Down to GRL!

It’s fall break, AKA my week of freedom from the daily responsibilities of being a stay at home mom to the wildest six-year-old twins on the planet.  That’s right, my husband takes them to Wisconsin every fall to visit his parents and I stay home and write, with Hank keeping me company. I’m working on a contemporary small town romance with a bit of a hurt/comfort feel and a coming out narrative. It’s much like my other stories in that it’s very character-driven, with a focus on the romantic relationship, self-discovery, and finding a place to call home. I can’t wait to share it with you all!

This week we also passed the “One month until GRL” countdown, so you know I’m totally freaking out, right? Is my swag good enough? Do I have the right clothes? It’s in Chicago–do I even own a coat? Of course all these questions are completely irrelevant when I realize I’ll be spending five days with some of my favorite people on the planet. The company trumps swag, no doubt.

In my preparation for GRL I am ordering some print books to give away, some to sell at the signing, and some to give away here on this blog and on my own personal blog. Do you love paperbacks, want to win one? Leave a note in the comments and I’ll draw a winner sometime this weekend. Your choice of a print copy of The Lonely Drop or The Dark Collector. Due to the enormous cost of international shipping, this giveaway is US-only, sorry!


What’s Next? More Wolves!

Betrayed-Becca_Jameson-500x800My next release is Betrayed, the 6th book in the Wolf Gatherings series. It releases October 2 with Hartwood Publishing! It should be available for preorder on Amazon any second now! Waiting… Waiting…


Heather Peters is recovering from her recent kidnapping at the sprawling Spencer ranch in northwest Texas. After witnessing more in the last few weeks than anyone should see in a lifetime, she needs the relaxation the Spencers and their ranch provide while applying for nursing jobs all over the country.

Marcus Cunningham is hovering on the edge of the Spencer ranch, watching closely to ensure the place is indeed a refuge where he might find peace from his family, the leaders of the Romulus, a subversive shifter organization run by his grandfather.

When Heather is bitten by a rattlesnake and goes down hard right before Marcus’s eyes, he has a moral obligation to approach and ensure the woman is okay. Not only is she in danger, but she’s his mate.

As events unfold, Marcus must face his mate and the Spencers with the information that will implicate his grandfather and cause a necessary battle between shifters battling to preserve their way of life, the North American Reserves, and rogue criminals, the Romulus. The future of all shifters depends on Marcus’s skill and knowledge.


Marcus watched her every expression. Heather Peters was gorgeous. He couldn’t stop panting at her feet. Her red hair was disheveled around her face, the curls falling in every direction even though she tried repeatedly to tuck them behind her ears. Freckles dotted her nose and cheeks, enticing him when she scrunched up her face. Her eyes bored into him, the green depths seeming to reveal her deepest, darkest secrets.
When she flattened and stared at the ceiling, he settled more comfortably at her feet. He hadn’t eaten since early yesterday, but he could go a long time in wolf form without food.
What he couldn’t do was stay away from Heather. He’d tried. All night he’d wandered the woods, pacing. But by morning he knew it was a lost battle. He needed to be near her. Even if he didn’t shift, he needed to know she was okay. Healing. Recuperating. The rest he would figure out as he went along. First, he could at least get a better feeling for these people inside their home rather than pacing the edge of the forest.
Not to mention the fact she was bound to tell them about him. He decided he was better off coming forward rather than being found roaming the property.
He had enough hurdles to surmount without adding creepy stalker to the mix.
What he hadn’t figured into the equation was the way her presence would slam him in the chest and take his breath away. In human form in a trapped room, it was worse. She was his. Did she know that? She seemed interested in getting to know him, but she hadn’t specifically said anything about them being mates.
“Thank you,” she muttered as she pulled her damn sheet higher.
For what? For rescuing her? He hadn’t really done anything. She’d done all the work. All he’d done was lie next to her and then nudge her into action.
Someone knocked at the door, and Marcus lifted his head and swung toward the opening, immediately going on the defense.
“You doing all right in here?” It was yet another brother. He’d ascertained there were at least three brothers. Though he thought he remembered there being a fourth from his youth. They all looked like their father, so it was easy to figure out.
The latest man glanced at Marcus and furrowed his brow. He came farther into the room. “Is he going to shift?”
“Hmm. I’m not sure. He’s not saying.” Heather grinned, and Marcus nearly swallowed his tongue when a gorgeous smile spread across her face, lighting up her eyes until they sparkled.
The newcomer smirked. “Guess not. Weird.” He turned toward Marcus. “I’m Drake. I guess you met my dad and my brother, Scott.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels as he turned back to face Heather. “He’s a chatty one, huh.”
“Yeah. I can’t rest with all his yammering.” She smiled again.
Marcus would gladly stay in wolf form forever if it meant seeing the twinkle in her eye.
Drake reached a hand forward, and Marcus growled before he could stop himself, lifting up on all fours.
Drake lifted both arms up. “Easy, fellow. I was just going to pour her some water. Her lips are dry. She hasn’t had enough to drink since she was bitten.” He slowly lowered his hands until he picked up the pitcher and poured a glass, only taking his gaze off Marcus for short instances.
Heather sat up, pulling her legs away from Marcus’s snout. She narrowed her gaze at him. She wasn’t laughing now. “Stop it.”
He conceded marginally, knowing his actions were unreasonable. Everything about this decision to come forward was unreasonable. He’d done so for purely selfish reasons in the end. He needed to know if it was true. That this woman, Heather Peters, was indeed his mate. It didn’t matter he wasn’t about to shift for her. He simply wanted to be certain she was safe, healing…and his.
Now that you know, what are you going to do with that information, big guy?
“Kinda protective, isn’t he?”
“Yeah.” She looked directly at Marcus while she spoke.
Drake handed Heather a glass of water. He turned toward Marcus. “Hey, if you want to get the next glass, be my guest.” And he turned and strolled from the room.
Marcus panted. He did want to get the next glass. He wouldn’t, but he wanted to. There were a lot of things he wanted, but life didn’t always throw the best curve balls. Claiming a mate at this juncture was beyond selfish. Marcus had nothing to offer this woman except a pile of horrific information concerning his own flesh and blood. She would freak out if she knew half of the shit he’d been a party to.
“So, how long are we going to hang out like this?” She set her glass down and crossed her arms. The blankets were tucked tightly against her chest. He wished she’d let them fall.
He sat back down with a sigh, jerking his attention back to his mate. He couldn’t have answered her if he wanted to. Right now he wanted to stare at her and make sure she was safe. He hadn’t thought past that yet.
She’s safe. You can see that. Why are you still here?
Heather scooted back down and held his gaze for a long time. Finally her eyes fluttered shut, and she slept again.
Marcus inched forward slowly. He wanted to be as close to her as possible. There was plenty of space alongside her, and she couldn’t protest while asleep… He also couldn’t bring himself to leave her yet…
Someone was petting him… It felt so good, like his mother used to do when he was a small child. Slowly he opened his eyes, suddenly aware he’d fallen asleep. It had been a dream.
Only it wasn’t a dream. It was Heather. He stared into her face. Her eyes were closed, her mouth parted in a sweet position, indicating she was deep asleep. But her hand was on top of him, hugging him to her.
And he’d never been as happy as that moment. In sleep she craved his proximity. She’d pulled him closer, or perhaps she’d scooted toward him.
The room was bright. Midday. Marcus needed water. He eyed the pitcher on the bedside table with envy.
Heather stirred. A soft moan escaped her lips, and then she dug her hand deeper into his fur. A moment passed before she became alert enough to realize her position.
She bolted upright, releasing him. Her chest heaved. She brushed her hair from her face. “You scared the crap out of me.”
Marcus watched her breasts as they rose and fell, her nipples erect under the tight tank top. She was sexy as hell, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it in this state. Or in any state, asshole.
“Still in wolf form, I see.” She inched away from him. “Aren’t you hungry? Thirsty?”
He was. But he didn’t move, not wanting her scent to disappear.
Heather shoved at him. “Get off the bed, you mutt. I need to use the bathroom.”
Marcus hesitated. If he could have laughed at her term for him, he would have. He glanced at her ankle. It looked much better. She could probably walk. He bounded from the bed, landing on all fours. He sat on his haunches as she swung her legs around and threw her blankets back.
Heather winced as she set her feet on the floor. “My bladder’s going to burst,” she muttered. She tentatively put pressure on her foot and then stood. “Ow. Son of a bitch, that hurts.”
Marcus leaped forward, though he hadn’t a clue what he could do to help.
As soon as she steadied herself enough to avoid falling, Marcus lifted his gaze from her feet. And God almighty. He sucked in a breath. Even in wolf form, he reacted to her.
Heather wore nothing but silk panties and a tank top. It was askew, almost revealing one breast. She hobbled forward, holding on to the bedside table as she moved toward the attached bathroom.
Marcus couldn’t move. He was in her way, but he was frozen in his spot, mesmerized by her sexy body. Her pale legs and arms matched her face, all wide expanse of glorious smooth skin dotted with freckles.
When she couldn’t get past him, she turned toward him. “Move. Geez.” And then she glanced down at herself. She righted her shirt and rolled her eyes. “Oh for fuck’s sake. Have you never seen a woman in her underwear? Lord, wolfboy.” She set her hands on her hips, no longer doing her best to cover herself. “Dude. I don’t know if you realize this, but it seems you’re my mate. I can’t for the love of God figure out why you’re sitting at my feet all doggy like, but move so I can use the bathroom.”
Marcus hopped up and did as she said, inwardly chuckling at her endearments. Wolfboy? Mutt? Doggy? If he’d been in human form, he would have bust a gut laughing. She was right. This was absurd. But he didn’t have the courage to change. And until this moment, he hadn’t had any intention of changing ever. Could he do it? Leave this woman and walk away?
Heather passed him and hobbled to the bathroom. She shut the door, leaving him alone in the room. He glanced around her space. It was sparsely furnished, and there was nothing to indicate it was lived in full time by any particular person. The comforter at the foot of the bed was floral. Was Heather a floral kind of girl? He didn’t think so.
This wasn’t her room. It was a guest room. Did she not live in the main house? She didn’t appear to be related to the people who’d come in and out of the room. A bit too formal. Maybe she’d been visiting.
Or maybe she’s one of the women kidnapped by the North American Reserves last month. Marcus held his breath as he considered the option. It was possible, though he hadn’t seen evidence of any of the others. He hadn’t seen more than three women on the property at any time.
He had to agree with his mother. No way were the Spencers involved in something sinister. He’d been here for hours and no one had yet been anything other than polite and accepting, even though he’d given them no reason whatsoever to trust him.
Heather hobbled back into the room. She opened a drawer and pulled out a few things. She ignored him completely, and then she headed back for the restroom. Seconds later, he heard water running. The shower.
If she hadn’t closed the door entirely, he didn’t believe he would have been able to keep from nosing it open and watching her strip out of her meager clothing and duck under the spray. He licked his chops thinking about it.
In wolf form his ardor was at bay, but barely. If he shifted now, he wouldn’t be able to control himself. He’d never wanted a woman as badly as Heather Peters in his life. And her feisty mannerisms and cocky mouth made him itch to claim her immediately. He couldn’t believe how strong the call to mate could be. Overpowering to the point of insanity.
He panted, staring at the bathroom door. He needed to shift, on a visceral level. He needed to claim this woman almost as bad as he needed his next breath. No, worse. Instead he growled low in his throat as he listened to the water running down the drain, knowing his mate was naked behind the door. Damn Fate and Her wicked, witty self.

What next? by Lynn Lorenz/Theodora Lane

You might be wondering, what is that Lynn Lorenz/Theodora Lane up to these days?

Well, besides trying to get over the empty nest feelings of “hey, why didn’t the kids do the dishes?” I’ve been busy on the writing front.
Signed the contract with Loose Id for the next Lynn Lorenz Rougaroux Social Club werewolf book – Bayou des Enfants. Yeehaw! Should be starting edits soon. Have no idea when it will come out, readers. Sorry. But I’m sure the cover will look something like these…
LL_RSC_BayouDreams LL_RSC_BayousEnd_coversm LL_RSC3_BayouLoup

Theodora Lane is not doing too bad either. Contracts are in the mail for a new series, Maximus Force, about a group of ex-special forces guys set here in Texas, and their adventures in the rescue for hire business. It’s a three book deal, with the possibility for more, if sales are good. This is with Hartwood Publishing, formerly Taliesin Publishing. Same great people, just a name change. Here are some of their wonderful covers for my books with them…
Her_Lieutenant-Theodora_Lane-500x800 The_Ambassadors_Daughter-Theodora_Lane-200x320 HeartOfAWarrior_TLane_500X800

Lynn is also planning on writing the next Werewolf Fight League book and the next Locke and Blade story too! WWFL is from Loose Id and Locke and Blade is from Amber Quill Press. Wow, I managed to wedge a ton of covers into this post. Nice! Cuz they’re pretty!
LockeBlade1 LL_Tor_coverlg1 Ashland

So I’ve got some writing to do as you can see. Along with a few other things I’ve started and need to finish before subbing them.

There is no rest for the wicked…