Monday, May 2, 2011

Hunter and the Hawk (Excerpt #2)


When Aidan walks into the Wolf Den and asks to see the Alpha, he doesn’t get a warm welcome. He’s barely through the door before he’s attacked. The Vampire’s arm is broken and he fears his totem animal, a Hawk, will never fly again.  
Hunter, a Lycan Enforcer, comes to his aid and takes him aside for questioning. Aidan claims to have information about the murder of Hunter’s mate and he’ll trade for Lycan blood. At first, Hunter thinks it's a trap, but Aidan convinces him that the answer to both species survival may lie in their blood. Hunter agrees to secretly help Aidan in exchange for the killer’s name. But he gets more than he bargained for when he finds himself falling for the seductive vampire. When the research goes awry, he’s sure he’s been used by the scheming bloodsuckers. But is Aidan the real enemy or is it someone closer to home?
Available at Silver Publishing:

A brawny wolf took the stool next to him and caught his eye in the mirror. The man flashed a toothy smile and leaned over to whisper in Hunter's ear. "Buy ya a beer?"
Hunter wrinkled his nose at the stench of unwashed dog and held up his bottle. "No, thanks." Doyle always struck him as a cruel bastard, a yobbo, not someone he wanted to get up close and personal with.
Persistent, the man laid a hairy paw on Hunter's upper thigh and squeezed. "How 'bout a dance? They're playing our song."
Hunter turned his head swiftly, his lip curling back in a low, threatening growl.
Doyle backed off and put his hands up in surrender. "Some other time."
Hunter ignored him. He was here to keep an eye out for trouble, not start it. Why prove the Alpha right? Rafe would just try harder to find him a new mate.
He and Rafe went way back, more like brothers than friends. Even though he knew the man had his best interests at heart, Hunter didn't want him choosing his mate again. Yeah, he was frustrated as hell, but this time he wanted to go slow and choose his own lover.
Although Rafe was older by five years, they'd always hung together as kids. Hunter had idolized him and the older boy had enjoyed being put on a pedestal. He'd been sixteen when Rafe challenged Ulric, the old bastard who ran the pack back then. Rafe had won easily and as the newly made leader, he'd been hot to show the pack what he could do. Even then, their numbers had been decreasing. Rafe swore he'd turn the tide and started conducting his own breeding studies.
The men weren't happy when he chose their mates, but they followed his orders for the good of the pack. Hunter had mated with Tena willingly. Maybe there were no bells and whistles but they had cared about each other.
In the twenty years they'd been together there'd been no whelps. Yeah, Tena had conceived, several times in fact. But she never carried the baby to term.
Rafe had suggested on more than one occasion back then that it was time for Hunter to mate with one of the other females. A proven breeder, he'd called him. Maybe he'd have better luck with one of the other she-wolves. The Alpha hadn't cared if he stayed with Tena as long as he spread his sperm around. Hunter had refused. Only on that point had he defied Rafe. He might be old school, but he believed in loyalty to one's mate.
With Tena gone six months, he knew Rafe wouldn't let him hold off much longer. Guilt sat heavy on his shoulders. He should be trying to help his people increase their numbers, but he didn't enjoy fucking around. What if he got someone else's mate pregnant? If he should be lucky enough to father a child, he wanted to be the one to raise it. And coming between a woman and a mate she loved didn't sit well with him. A complicated situation for sure.
He would never want Rafe's position. The Alpha had a lot of responsibility on his shoulders and had to make some tough decisions. In the end, Hunter usually went along with whatever Rafe decided.
Suddenly, a frisson of unease radiated up from the base of his spine. Every hair on his body stood on end. He hadn't seen or smelled anything out of the ordinary, but his instincts were usually spot-on. Over the loud music, he heard a series of low threatening growls.
His head snapped around, nostrils flaring and amber eyes searching for the culprit. The wolves were gathering near the entrance and the crowd prevented him from seeing anything. Suppressing his own growl, he straightened to his full six feet, five inches and made his way toward the disturbance.
The men stepped aside as he passed. They knew he wasn't there just to shoot pool, and they respected his position as lead enforcer.

Happy Reading, Gale Stanley


Pender Mackie said...

This really does sound good.

June M. said...

Definately gonna have to get this one.