What Would You Do? PG-13

If you'd just seen a man change from a hunk into a grizzly bear, what would you do?

a) run
b) cry for mommy
c) ask him to change back
d) all of the above

Find out what Chloe does in CLAWED (Wild Things, Book 3) in the following PG-13 excerpt ~

Chloe slapped a hand over her mouth and squatted, making her body smaller. Fortunately, the man standing in the stream didn’t notice her. Instead, he kept his head down, his attention focused on the water, his arms stretched out in front of him and his hands open as though ready to catch a football. She squinted, unsure if she could believe her eyes. Finding a man standing in the stream was startling enough, but finding a naked man standing in a stream was incredible.

And what a man he was! Her gaze traveled from the top of his head, down his long dark hair, stopping to slide her attention to the left, then the right, to take in the massive width of his shoulders. Her heart pounded, and for a moment she was afraid he’d hear it above the sound of the running water.

Muscles rippled as he flexed his upper torso, twisting first to one side, then the other, and yet he kept his legs perfectly still. His back made her think of flesh-covered marble like a Greek statue come to life. His arms, remaining outstretched, were sharply defined, with edges where one muscle connected to another like rocks positioned on top of each other to form ribbons of human granite.

She swallowed, replenishing her suddenly dry mouth, then prepared to let her gaze slide lower. His broad shoulders tapered to a lean waist, but it was the granite hardness of his chest that took her breath away. The strong, sturdy legs, as thick as tree trunks, supported him as though the water wasn’t the fast current rushing around him but instead a peaceful lake.

She studied him, fascinated by his obvious comfort in the wilderness. He was a man born of the earth who had remained a part of the earth, a man fully aware of his place in the universe. Moreover, he was an unusual vision, an unexpected gift for an artist. Even if she hadn’t found him attractive, she would’ve appreciated his magnificence and would’ve known that she had to sketch him. To not do so would be unthinkable.

Going to her knees, she put pencil to pad and began to draw. Within a few minutes, she had a rough sketch completed.

He moved, striking his hands into the water and stunning her so that she dropped her pencil. Shouting a cry of victory, he straightened up to lift a large fish over his head, then tossed it to the shore.

She froze and considered what she’d seen. Had he really caught a fish with his bare hands? An image of a bear fishing for trout flashed through her mind. He’d caught the fish just like a bear would. But how? Was he a true wilderness man like those she’d thought existed only in stories?

A second later he assumed the position he had before, and she forgot her questions. She wouldn’t have thought it possible for anything to be more alluring than his body, but she was wrong. If she’d believed in mythology, she would’ve sworn a god from Mount Olympus had chiseled his face from stone. And then, upon completion, the deity had placed eyes in his face so piercing that she could see the intensity in them from yards away. A smile lifted the corners of his lips, softening his face. Instead of making him seem less manly, the expression only served to increase the power in his face. Here was nature personified in human form. If she could draw him and show his vitality, his magnetism, his raw essence, she would be capturing rugged beauty itself. She retrieved her pencil and started sketching again.

Her pencil flew over the pad. The fear that either the man would stalk away or she’d realize it was all a mirage that would vanish into thin air propelled her urgency. First his face formed on her paper—albeit hardly doing justice to the masculinity of his features—then she glanced up, ready to take in the rest of him.

His chest, tanned and smooth, was broad and barreled, reminding her of a professional wrestler. His dark nipples were brown boulders set on top of a mountainside. Strong ribs called for her to skim her fingers along them, then move on to ridge after ridge of his glorious abdomen. She studied his body like the artwork it was, examining the angles, the curves, the complex structures combining to become the simplicity of his form. She tucked her head again and drew.

Praying that the vision hadn’t disappeared, she dared to lift her gaze. Once again, she started from his head and traveled downward, revising her sketch as she went along until, at last, she gasped at the width and length of him. Like every other part of his body, his cock was impossibly strong-looking and long.

If that’s how he looks without an erection… Oh, my. She shook away the torrid thought, intent on making him come alive on paper. He was superb, a marvel of wilderness and mankind rolled into one incredible form, and she couldn’t let herself get sidelined with sex-filled fantasies. But damn, what amazing fantasies they would be!

All at once his image blurred, and she cursed her overindulgence of alcohol. She rubbed her eyes, then looked again and squinted. The man’s image grew blurrier and his body appeared to change, covering the hardness of bone and flesh, and adding…fur? Her jaw dropped and her hand skidded the pencil across the page, scoring a black mark from one end to the other.

The man before her was changing into something else. Something even larger than he was, wider, bulkier, with brown fur spreading over his body to replace flesh and hair. She gawked, unable to believe her eyes, unable to look away. His face was gone and instead a large snout sprouted with a black nose at the end and long, ferocious fangs extended from his mouth. His long, muscular arms changed, growing shorter, while his hands widened and produced sharp claws.

“Oh, my God!”

Still standing on two legs, the grizzly bear jerked his head up, stared straight at her and roared, the sound sending small animals scurrying through the woods. The huge bear dropped to all fours, splashing water high into the air as he lumbered onto the shore. Chloe yelped, stumbled backward, and landed on her bottom. Her breath hitched in her throat and her stomach turned over in fear. Precious seconds ticked by as she stared at the massive creature, both terrified and awestruck by his ferocious splendor. At last, adrenaline flashed alive. Discarding her art, she scrambled to her feet and ran as fast as she could.

Chloe pushed through low-hanging tree branches and bushes, her heart caught in her throat, ready to feel giant claws raking down her back. She didn’t dare turn around, didn’t dare stop, but raced on, her mind repeating one word over and over. Run!

Sticking to the path leading back to the campsite, she no longer had breath to shout for help. Her pulse pounded in her ears and a stitch stuck her in the side, making her whimper, but she pushed on. The ground shook beneath her like a tornado thundering behind her, telling her of the monster’s proximity, and as though her mind had detached itself from her body, she wondered why he hadn’t already taken her down. Her calves tightened from the exertion, and scratches covered her legs and arms, but she ignored the stings of pain.

Then she tripped and fell.

She hit the ground, her hands keeping her from landing face-first in the dirt. She sprawled, the impact knocking the air from her lungs. Dirt billowed up to coat her face and fill her nostrils. Stifling a cry, she curled into a fetal position, covered her head with her arms and closed her eyes.

Please don’t hurt me.

Find out what happens next in CLAWED (Wild Things, Book 3), available at Amazon.com and other online retailers. Check out more of my work at www.beverlyrae.com.