Sign Up and Support the Release of Author Bethany Shaw's New Short Story ON THE RUN. Shaw's second book in the Wayward Wolves Series. This time read Marcia's story. Shaw is a Five Star Indie Author. Release day is April 17, 2015.
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Release & Review Blitz: April 17 - May 1, 2015
Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25264283-on-the-run
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Marcia fled her pack years ago. After moving from place to place she is now happily settled in the Big Apple. Until she is disturbed by the scent of a male wolf. Is he there to return her to the pack?
Declan lived his life serving his alpha until the day his sister is disgraced. On the run himself with his siblings he discovers the beautiful white wolf. Marcia. Now, to prove he’s not a threat...
Marcia inhaled sharply. No. No. No. This can’t be happening. After two weeks of peace and quiet, the scent of a wolf infiltrated her nostrils again. It’s the same one from that night in Central Park. What does he want? Is he searching for me? She peered around the crowded street corner. Where are you? The cologne was strong. He was close, and his aroma was delicious. The wolf inside her stirred as a shiver charged up her spine.
Heat flooded her, causing her core to ache. Seriously? Get a grip Marcia. He’s probably here to return you to the pack. Her wolf snarled at the thought. I won’t go back to that barbaric place.
She curled her fingers into her palms, making them tight fists. If this wolf thought they’d grab her off the street they had another thing coming. One of the benefits of a big city was the people. A good scream and a well-aimed punch and she’d disappear into the crowd. Everything she needed to start a new life in a new city was in her purse. She’d just slip away and begin again. It wouldn’t be the first time, and unfortunately it probably wouldn’t be the last. First, she needed to get a peek at the wolf. The desire to see him was weird, but she couldn’t fight it. I have to see his face. Maybe he’s not a threat. You can’t take that risk.
The wind blew, and she snapped her head to the left. She narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing each passerby. Where are you? Her breath caught in her throat as she met piercing blue eyes. Oh my. The scrumptious man was at least six feet tall. His muscles rippled beneath his sweater, and scruff adorned his set jaw. His curly blonde hair was mussed perfectly. I bet he rolls out of bed like that too. Go figure the jackass sent to bring her home would be hot. Oh well. She would take him out regardless. Hell will freeze over before I go anywhere with him.
Marcia inhaled a deep breath, steeling herself for the confrontation as marched toward the wolf. The street was crowded, and he wouldn’t risk exposure in front of all these people. The man watched her, his eyes staring intently as she came to a halt a few feet away from him.
“What do you want?” she growled as she crossed her arms over her chest.
“I had to see who the other wolf in town was,” he stated. His eyes briefly left hers as he took in the bustling street corner. “You’re here alone?”
Marcia glared at him. Why did that matter? Was he with the pack, or on his own? She crinkled her nose, sniffing his scent. He was pack; bitten wolves had a distinct human and wet dog odor whereas pack smelled and had a woodsy scent—at least to her. Pack wolves were worse than bitten ones. Bitten ones had no real allegiance unless they earned it. They could be bought off. Pack wolves would do their alpha’s bidding or die.
“What do you want?” she hissed. Her fingers crackled, partially shifting. Marcia forced an even breath in through her nose, in a vain attempt to calm her frayed nerves. Changing in front of hundreds of humans wouldn’t be a good idea. “I’m not going back. Tell Killian to go to hell.”
The man tilted his head to the side, studying her. “I’m not here to take you back,” he told her quietly. He lifted his hand over his shoulder and flicked his fingers. “I caught your scent the other night and wanted to know if you were friend or foe. We needed confirmation there wasn’t a pack in the city.”
Marcia stumbled back as two more scents permeated the air. Crap, he’s not alone. Why didn’t I pay more attention? Too late now. She steeled herself, planting her feet firmly in place. Don’t let them see your weakness and don’t let them smell your fear.
“I’m not here to take you back,” he repeated as he reached out and grasped her elbow tightly. Heat shot up her arm as he gently tugged her closer to him. A chill zipped down her spine and places that should not be tingling began to sizzle with need.
What is wrong with me? I don’t even know what he wants.
“Let go,” she snarled, thrashing in his ironclad grip. “You’re making a scene.”
The man let her go, and she took a few more steps back, wanting distance between them in case he attempted to snatch her again.
“My brother, sister and I are from James Monroe’s pack in Virginia. It seems we both have something in common,” he said placing his hands into his sweater pockets.
She’d heard of the pack, but never met the alpha. Why tell her this?
“And what do we have in common?” she questioned, her voice faltering a little as she realized one of the approaching wolves was female. There weren’t female enforcers or scouts. Why did they have a woman with them? Was the girl really his sister?
“We are on the run too,” he stated simply.