Yes, it’s finally on the horizon. The Big Bad Wolf, otherwise known as Ryland in my Freya’s Bower release, SheWolf, at long last is forced into a confrontation with his True Mate. This is the book so many have asked for – Ryland, the scary half way villain of my first release, who turned out to have something akin to a heart in his chest. I’m hoping for release to be near the end of the year.
For those reading the Maxey wizard/shifter series, don’t worry, I have something on the horizon there, and once I get more news, I’ll let you know.
I thought, in honor of Ryland’s new, and most awesome cover, (Ok, Thank you cover gods! Great job!) I’d give you guys a little taste of Ryland from SheWolf to give you just a tease about this rather volatile male.
So without further ado, I provide you from chapter 4, a taste of Ryland.
He grimaced. “I came to apologize.” He sounded sincere and human. No, that wasn’t the right term—civilized.
“Apologize? Ok, apology accepted. You can leave now.”
Anger hardened his gaze, and she watched while he regained control. This man wasn’t used to being dismissed. He’s wolven, not a man. She really needed to change her way of looking at life.
“We need to talk.” He finally gained control. He moved out from behind her desk. She could see in his eyes he had a hair trigger on his temper. It took less than a minute for her to push his buttons.
Interesting. Not only could Kieran gather his temper much faster, but it took more to push him to his limits. As of yet, she’d barely brushed the edge of his control.
Her mind struggled to catch up with her instincts. She’d never expected to want a man like Kieran, much less find herself comparing him to another, more violent man. At least Kieran came out the winner.
She strode to her desk, brushing past the big male. Determined to hide her discomfort, she refused to put the desk between them. Instead, she turned to face him and leaned against the hard wood, ankles crossed, revealing her calves and knees below her skirt.
“I don’t see what we have to talk about, Ryland. You wanted to kidnap me, to rape me, and make me bear your children. Somehow your apology falls short.”
One hand moved into her pocket and fingered the keypad of her cell phone. She should call Kieran. It would be easy, just a quick press of a button, number two on her speed dial.
She turned and met his eyes. They flashed yellow.
“That was not my doing,” he said softly.
“Oh, I don’t know, Ryland. Those were your arms holding me in place. Your hands grabbing my body without permission. So yes, I’d say it was all you there.”
“I was following orders.”
“Ahh, the catch-all, end-all phrase. Just like the Nazis in World War II. They were all following orders.”
“It is our way. We follow our pack leader’s directives. But no more.” The last words ended on a growl.
She arched a brow in surprise. “Oh, and what changed?”
“Kieran killed my pack leader. I am leader now.”
The simple reminder of the battle a few nights before was all it took. A flash of heat, a flush of moisture, and she was uncomfortably aroused. The image of Kieran fighting…so powerful…so strong.
“And you will be my mate.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You’ve got to be kidding!”
He approached, his steps sure, his head lowered. He watched her from beneath heavy lidded eyes. That damn stalking again. Did wolven males practice it as children? She should have put the desk between them after all. Too late now. Her heart thudded against her chest. But she didn’t feel fear. Kieran must be right. Only someone half-wolven would find Ryland’s approach exciting.
“No, Anna.” His voice lowered, rumbled sexily. Her body responded against all common sense. He inhaled and smiled. “You will be mine.”
“No, I won’t. Besides, it seems to me if Kieran killed your pack leader, doesn’t that make Kieran your pack leader now?”
He chuckled. Like warm honey, the sound rolled down her spine. Not as erotic as Kieran’s, but arousing all the same. He stood just inches away, his head bent close to her neck. “He didn’t claim his place, therefore it’s mine. And you want me. Your body says so.”
“It’s not you I’m thinking about.”
That soft laughter from his chest, so deep, so masculine. He inched close, and the breath whooshed from her lungs, his heat causing havoc on her already rampant body.
Then, inside, it was like a switch that flipped in her head. Her mind and body now in sync. It wasn’t him she was responding to, but the chase. She put her hand on his chest, impressed by the powerful feel of steel muscles beneath the flesh.
“And here I thought the bitch chose her mate.”
“But you are no wolf.” He whispered the words as his head dipped to hers; his lips found her neck instead of her mouth.