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Hot River
The Following excerpt from SECOND CHANCE CHARITY is for readers 18 and over.
Excerpt from Second Chance Charity by Kate Hill
(werewolf)
Available from Changeling Press.Blurb:
Charity, Queen of the fierce Hot River Werewolf pack, has reason to hate men. Enslaved by one as a child, turned by another as a woman, she’s got issues. But being a werewolf isn’t one of them. She’s been making the most of her cursed existence, until a run in with the man who turned her makes her question the path she’s chosen.
Deep in the Wicked Wild, she meets Shane. Half Elf, half Wildman, Shane makes her question everything she thinks she knows about men -- and sex. The attraction between them is electric. In spite of his origins Shane had a tender side that’s hard to resist, even for the Werewolf Queen. Can he convince Charity to take a second chance at love?
Excerpt:
"Hey," said a rough male voice. A warm, callused hand rested lightly on her shoulder.
Charity moaned softly and opened her eyes halfway. It took a moment for her vision to clear, but once it did she jumped in surprise and growled, on the verge of shifting to her wolf form, since she'd reverted to her human shape when she'd been knocked out.
Beside her squatted a rangy man with unkempt reddish-brown hair hanging almost to his waist. A curly goatee, so long that it brushed his chest, sprouted from his sturdy jaw line and his moss-green eyes stared at her from beneath severely arched eyebrows.
He wore nothing but an animal-tooth necklace and a leather loincloth. Across his smooth chest were black tattoos of wild animals, similar to cave drawings. In his current position, the loincloth didn't adequately conceal his male attributes and she noticed a good portion of a large, well-shaped cock peeking out the side. The sight would have amused her if she hadn't noticed the thick wooden club resting beside him. Though he didn't appear to be a full-blooded Wildman--his body was smooth rather than covered in fur and he had a fresh, sexy scent rather than a putrid stench--there was no mistaking his relation to those cannibals. He had rather primitive facial features and his sharp teeth were visible through his slightly parted lips.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
Clear English. Wildmen didn't speak in any known language. They had their own method of communication that included various grunts and growls.
"Can you talk?" he pressed, reaching out to brush hair from her face.
Charity grasped his wrist and shoved his hand away. "Yes I can talk. I'm surprised you can, though. What are you? A Wildman wannabe?"
He curled his lip. "Apparently your mouth is working just fine. Wolfy, that group was getting ready to cook you over an open fire. You could trying saying something like thank you."
Still feeling a bit groggy, she pushed herself to her feet and leaned against a nearby tree.
He also rose, club in hand, and she noted exactly how tall he was. Not quite as tall as most Wildmen, but nearly. And he had a damn fine body. Long limbed and muscular without being overly-bulky as many Wildmen tended to be. Unfortunately the loincloth now entirely covered his privates. Her head had almost completely cleared and she wouldn't mind another glance.
Shoving his thick hair over his shoulders, he cast her a lingering look from head to toe, then shook his head slightly and turned away. It was then she noticed the tattoos on the backs of his calves.