You know that old saying – you can't pick your family but
you can pick your friends. And hopefully the two will merge in a wonderful
connection where your sister *is* your friend and so on and so on and so on…
Yeah, right.
Me neither.
In "Battle Scars", book 4 of the "Blood of thePride" series releasing on October 28th, Rebecca finds herself
in the middle of a modern-day Romeo and Juliet story where two Felis families
end up fighting in her front yard of Toronto ,
Canada
This is the fourth book in the series and frankly, I think
it's the best. Rebecca and Brandon's relationship hit a new speed bump and new
family members arrive to make the situation even more dangerous – and in some
cases, humorous.
I hope you'll come along for one more prowl through the
streets of Toronto
Here's an excerpt from "Battle Scars", releasing October 28th from Carina Press and available at all ebook retailers!
P.I. Rebecca Desjardin is surprised when two seemingly unrelated missing-teen cases land in her lap on the same day. Her cat-shifter instincts tell her there's more to the story, and when she uncovers a bitter feud between the two families, she suspects Romeo and Juliet runaways. She turns to her lover, Brandon Hanover, a man who knows the underground better than most.
Brandon is determined to help the woman he loves outwit ruthless enforcers and bring two missing kids to safety, but when a woman from his past resurfaces he finds himself caught between two worlds once again.
As the claws come out and the war between the shifter families turns deadly, the two will have to stand together or fall separately--and even that might not be enough to save them.
Excerpt:
...
I'd always thought I'd appreciate the sight of a near-naked man scampering around my house in a pair of boxer shorts.
Until now.
I cleared my throat as Jake Middleston glared at me, his back to the kitchen. He had about ten years on me, with skin that had been left out in the sun too long. The jean jacket he wore over a dingy gray T-shirt was ripped along the arms--honest injuries and not for fashion. His short-cropped black hair was turning gray in spots, scattered over the scalp.
His nostrils flared and he frowned.
He could smell Brandon Hanover, my lover and new roommate, as Bran snuck into the kitchen.
He let out something akin to a huff.
Jake was old-school Felis. Tolerated humans when necessary, and even then under duress. He and his kin believed in the doctrine of each to their own and being in the same house as a human was tough, much less knowing said human was mated to me, a fellow Felis. I could see the words on his lips itching to break out, a good old-fashioned racist rant at me for being so involved with human society that I'd consider one of them as my beloved.
Until now.
I cleared my throat as Jake Middleston glared at me, his back to the kitchen. He had about ten years on me, with skin that had been left out in the sun too long. The jean jacket he wore over a dingy gray T-shirt was ripped along the arms--honest injuries and not for fashion. His short-cropped black hair was turning gray in spots, scattered over the scalp.
His nostrils flared and he frowned.
He could smell Brandon Hanover, my lover and new roommate, as Bran snuck into the kitchen.
He let out something akin to a huff.
Jake was old-school Felis. Tolerated humans when necessary, and even then under duress. He and his kin believed in the doctrine of each to their own and being in the same house as a human was tough, much less knowing said human was mated to me, a fellow Felis. I could see the words on his lips itching to break out, a good old-fashioned racist rant at me for being so involved with human society that I'd consider one of them as my beloved.
But he was also a client and I had to stay polite in the face of old-fashioned prejudice. I'd done it before for other clients, slimy adulterers who wanted an easy way out of their marriage and itchy-fingered businessmen looking for criminals in their midst who stole paperclips and pencils.
If you had asked me six months ago if I'd have my fellow cat shifters as clients I would have laughed in your face. Being outcast for two decades has that effect on me.
But recent events had brought me back into the family and scored me one hot human mate, so I was prepared to deal with family as possible clients. And keep my mouth shut.
Besides, I needed the cash.
"You said you needed my help," I prompted, trying to draw his attention away from Bran. I couldn't see him but I could smell him, fresh from our bed upstairs.
He hadn't showered yet, making his natural male smell more intense, almost to the point of overpowering--let's just say that we enjoy waking each other up multiple times before we actually get up. I'd managed to get into the shower before my arranged meeting with Middleston but he'd refused, showing his stubborn streak and annoyance at me having anything to do in the morning other than stay in bed.
Bran knew we Felis had an enhanced sense of smell. And he knew I knew my new client would have it, as well.
The older man rubbed the palms of his hands on his jeans, likely in an attempt to ignore the musky scent drifting across the room. "I have a daughter, Lisa. She's almost eighteen and thinks she knows it all." He gave me a knowing smile. "As you can guess we disagree on a few things."
I nodded. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Bran tiptoeing toward the stairs cradling a huge bowl of tortilla chips and a bottle of salsa.
He knew I hated crumbs in bed.
He knew I couldn't say anything without making a scene.
I kept my attention on Middleston. It kept me from considering disembowelment.
If you had asked me six months ago if I'd have my fellow cat shifters as clients I would have laughed in your face. Being outcast for two decades has that effect on me.
But recent events had brought me back into the family and scored me one hot human mate, so I was prepared to deal with family as possible clients. And keep my mouth shut.
Besides, I needed the cash.
"You said you needed my help," I prompted, trying to draw his attention away from Bran. I couldn't see him but I could smell him, fresh from our bed upstairs.
He hadn't showered yet, making his natural male smell more intense, almost to the point of overpowering--let's just say that we enjoy waking each other up multiple times before we actually get up. I'd managed to get into the shower before my arranged meeting with Middleston but he'd refused, showing his stubborn streak and annoyance at me having anything to do in the morning other than stay in bed.
Bran knew we Felis had an enhanced sense of smell. And he knew I knew my new client would have it, as well.
The older man rubbed the palms of his hands on his jeans, likely in an attempt to ignore the musky scent drifting across the room. "I have a daughter, Lisa. She's almost eighteen and thinks she knows it all." He gave me a knowing smile. "As you can guess we disagree on a few things."
I nodded. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Bran tiptoeing toward the stairs cradling a huge bowl of tortilla chips and a bottle of salsa.
He knew I hated crumbs in bed.
He knew I couldn't say anything without making a scene.
I kept my attention on Middleston. It kept me from considering disembowelment.
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