Summary Block
This is example content. Double-click here and select a page to feature its content. Learn more
Summary Block
This is example content. Double-click here and select a page to feature its content. Learn more

Testi

Testi

Testi

Testi

Spirit Of The Wolf - A.D. McLain

 

A Wolf Shifter Romance Novel Series

Spirit Of The Wolf by A.D. McLain

Series Excerpt

Nicole walked the couple of blocks back from the diner quickly. It was turning out to be a pretty good day, the sun was high in the sky, and there wasn’t a cloud to be seen. She sat down on the steps of the apartment building and forced herself to relax. She found that she wasn’t quite ready to go inside yet, it was a beautiful day, and she might as well enjoy it. She pulled a piece of candy from her bag and leaned over the rail to toss the wrapper in the alley trashcan. The lid was open, broken pieces of plumbing pipe sticking out the top. She smiled. Hopefully that meant the leak in her neighbor’s apartment was finally fixed, so she wouldn’t need to keep coming over to Nicole’s apartment to shower after step class on Thursdays.

Sitting back down, Nicole chewed on the candy and closed her eyes. A light breeze blew and tugged some strands of hair from her braid. She ignored them brushing across her face and listened to the birds singing in the trees. Their melodic voices filled the air, creating a peaceful atmosphere.

Approaching footsteps caught her attention, distracting her from the birdsong. Surveying the sidewalk she saw two men heading in her direction and mental alarms went off. One was dressed completely in leather, he had dark hair and a scar on his left cheek. The second man wore worn out blue jeans and a greasy, torn up shirt. He had sandy colored hair and a beard.

Nicole went to stand up, but the one in leather put on a sudden burst of speed and reached her before she could get into the building. Grabbing her wrist, he yanked her away from the steps and pushed her into the alley. The way the steps curled around, she knew she was virtually invisible to anyone passing by the building. The other man stood watch by the street.

Before she could make sense of what was happening, he had her braced up against the wall so she couldn’t move or defend herself. The smell of sweat and cheap cologne, mingled with cigarette smoke, filled her nostrils. She gagged against the oppressive smell, even as her pounding heartbeat started echoing in her ears. For a long moment, all that existed was the stench, the sound of her heart, and the pain.

Nicole flinched when he pushed her wrists against the wall behind her. The brick rubbed hard against her damaged skin, and his fingernails dug painfully into her arm.

The man revealed a knife, holding it up in front of her chest. “You’ve got to learn to mind your own business.” His hot, moist breath raised the hairs on the back of her neck and bile rose in her throat. All she could think about was the knife which was about to be plunged into her heart.

She watched as the knife stopped on its downward descent toward her chest, no more than an inch from her heart. She held her breath, her eyes focused on the deadly metal for a moment before she lifted her gaze.

Her attacker’s eyes had widened as he stared at the hand which was currently holding his arm. He strained against the grip, apparently unable to budge. He wasn’t the only one who seemed surprised.

Nicole stared up at the man who was now, literally, holding her life in his hand. She hadn’t seen or heard him approach, but here he was. “You’ve got to learn how to treat a lady,” the new man said in a low, intense voice. The timbre of his voice caused an entirely different type of shiver to run down her spine.

He was dressed in black, and didn’t seem to be that much older than herself. For a moment, Nicole found herself unable to take her eyes off him. She watched him as he bent back ‘leather man’s’ wrist until she heard a satisfying crack, and then he pulled the man’s arm behind his back in a very awkward position. The man screamed. Her mystery defender then pushed the perp into the trash bin.

Nicole pried her gaze away from the two men and turned her attention to the second perp, who was hurrying toward her. She glanced around for a way to defend herself and saw a piece of discarded pipe. Grabbing it, she hit the second perp in the stomach and then over his head. He collapsed to the ground for a moment or two before he scrambled to his feet, stumbling after the first attacker, who was limping, a knife protruding from his leg.

Nicole let the pipe slip from her hand onto the ground, and rubbed her wrists as she watched them escape. Her wrists were extremely sore after she’d been gripped with no small amount of force. Old and new cuts alike were covered in a mixture of blood, dirt and sweat.

“Are you okay?” the man in black asked. She turned toward him to respond, when she saw a nasty gash on his arm.

“You’re hurt!” she cried.

“It’s nothing.” He shrugged off the injury, his dark, disheveled hair falling across his face at the movement, but the pained expression in his blue-green eyes gave him away. Blood was dripping from his torn sleeve.

“Nothing? I’d hardly call that nothing. Why don’t you come with me, and I’ll clean up the wound and bandage it?” Reluctantly, he agreed, letting her lead him upstairs.

Nicole called the police while she rinsed off the worst of the blood and dirt from her hands. She decided she should clean the man’s injury first and filled a bowl with hot water, bringing it across to where he stood by the front door. “Sit down and roll up that sleeve.” She motioned to a chair and went to find the first aid kit and some clean rags.

“I don’t think rolling up my sleeve is going to work.”

He’d spoken from right behind, and her heart began to race. Once she was confident she could talk without her voice sounding shaky, she responded. “Oh?” Nicole looked closely at the sleeve and decided he was right. It probably wouldn’t make it past the middle of his forearm.

The coppery smell of blood filled her with a renewed sense of urgency and his sleeve was already slick with it. “Do you think you can take off the shirt without it hurting too badly, or do I need to cut the sleeve off?”

He smiled softly, seeming warmed by her concern over him feeling too much pain. “Don’t worry about it hurting, but are you sure you need me to do that?”

“If I’m going to clean it properly, yes.”

“Alright. But I might need a hand.”

“No problem.” She set down the first aid kit and rags and helped him remove his shirt. Slowly, she pulled the sleeve down over his injured arm, careful not to touch the gash. “There,” she announced triumphantly when she was done. She took the shirt and draped it over the sink, then picking up her materials, she led him back to the chair she’d motioned to earlier. “Now, let me look at that cut.”

Nicole leaned forward and studied the gash. It actually seemed a little better than it had when she’d first seen it outside. Maybe it was just the indoor lighting. It didn’t look as if it would need stitches, but it had certainly bled a lot.

She snatched up one of the rags, and it almost fell out of her hand when she first touched his arm. Just that small touch sent shivers rippling down her spine. The hairs on her arms stood on end, and goose bumps covered her flesh. She managed, just barely, to keep her composure and continued to clean his wound. She needed to concentrate on the task at hand, she reminded herself. After all, he’d gotten injured while helping her.

Despite the warning she’d given herself, she kept finding herself glancing at his broad, bare chest, just inches away. How easy it would be, to reach over and touch it!

Very gently, she washed away the blood from the injury. There was a lot of it. To break the silence and take her mind off her close proximity to her mysterious rescuer, she started talking. “Thank, you, for what you did.” She laughed lightly looking up into his eyes. “I don’t even know your name.”

She dropped her gaze back to the injury. With most of the blood cleaned away, it looked even better. Still, the cut was pretty deep. He’d need to take good care of it to ensure it didn’t get infected.

He smiled. “My name is David Coverton.”

She looked at that smile and the man who was wearing it. He had deeply set, blue-green eyes and midnight black hair. Every intake of breath brought her eyes back to his muscular chest. There was no denying he was alluring. She suddenly realized she was staring and quickly began to get bandages out of the first aid box.

“David,” she repeated thoughtfully.

David took a deep breath. For some reason, his name sounded so much better the way she said it.

She spoke again, drawing him back to the conversation. “My name is Nicole Cameron. Here, put your arm up a little.” She started bandaging his arm, and he noticed she focused on the way his muscles flexed as he moved his arm. “So, what do you do Mr. Coverton? When you’re not rescuing people, that is?”

“You can call me David,” he responded, wanting to hear her say his name again, “and I keep myself busy. This and that.” He glanced around the room, searching for a way to distract himself from Nicole. What he saw surprised him even more than the way he was reacting to her.

At first glance, there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary in the small apartment. Beside him was a large bookcase, full of books, and at the back of the apartment there were glass doors opening onto a balcony. To the right of the front door was a roomy kitchenette with a sizable counter. She even had a potted tree sitting in one corner. But what really caught his eye was the abundance of wolves. There were pictures, statues, a clock, and a calendar, all depicting a variety of wolves. A glance at her bookshelf revealed several books were about wolves. It was amazing. She couldn’t know, yet something in her must have some sort of inkling. Maybe it wasn’t that strange that she’d focused so heavily on wolves – maybe it was a natural part of her. “You have a nice place here. Tell me, what is it that you do?”

She smiled at his obvious evasion and the way he turned the attention back to her but let it slide. After all, he had just saved her life. “Right now, I’m attending Smithsdale University.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “I’m hoping to have selected a major by senior year.” She winked and smiled.

He smiled back, and Nicole’s heart skipped a beat. She quickly finished bandaging David’s arm and gently slapped his good arm when she stood up. She didn’t want to delve too deeply into what that smile was doing to her.

A knock sounded at the door, and Nicole let the police officer in. He introduced himself as Officer Stevenson and questioned what had happened. Nicole did most of the talking, with David occasionally adding a small detail. The officer took down a note of their phone numbers, and promised to have a patrol car drive by a few times that night as a precaution. It might take some time to identify the men, since neither of them knew her attackers.

Once the door closed, David turned to Nicole. “Will you be all right here tonight?” he asked.

She smiled reassuringly. “Yeah. Thanks… for everything.”

She helped him pull on his shirt and walked him to the door. Before he left, he gazed deeply into her eyes for a long moment. “If you need anything – anything at all – just call and I’ll come.” He turned and left before she could say other word. She looked at the end table and saw a simple black business card with his name and number. Putting the card on the counter by her phone, Nicole set about the task of cleaning up.

 

DCI Grace Swan Thrillers - Giles Ekins

Fall of the Swords - Scott Michael Decker