Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Mid Week Special Guest: Cree Walker


What would you do if you were separated from your life mate and you knew it was literally killing you both?

Would you fight against all odds, possibly to the death, to return to their side?

Werewolves – like their natural counterpart the wolves – breed for life; and if there is no mate, there is no life. A prolonged separation between mates can kill them more efficiently than any bullet ever could.

The werewolves are dying. Years of war between the Born werewolves and bitten, along with a lack of healthy bloodlines, has taken its toll on the race and if something isn't done soon, they will all be gone within the next fifty years. They are a strong breed, but have one major weakness that will
probably end them all.

The Council is playing with fire when they use this very weakness against Sugar Lubec, the Born daughter of two bitten parents, to carry the offspring of Alpha Jack Coon. He is the leader of the largest werewolf pack in North America.

Ending the war between the two groups is the only thing that can save the werewolves and bring Jack and Sugar together. Can they do it before they end up paying the ultimate price for their long separation? Or will that price be the only thing that can end the war?


Jack rolled over to face me and smiled wickedly. “If I killed you now, you couldn’t get away now could you?” The humor on his face kept me from screaming bloody murder, but a sad look came over his eyes.

I faced away from him and steadied my breathing to match his until his snoring started. I edged over until the majority of my weight was on my free arm off the side of the bed and swung my leg down. I inched my way higher until I could get a good grip on the metal nail file and nearly bent it in half trying to pry it from between the carpeted floor and the metal foot of the bed frame. He coughed and I swallowed a scream. I jumped anyway and ground my teeth, waiting to see if he had woken up. The snoring continued. I rolled back onto the bed and pulled myself into a sitting position so I could reach
my cuffed hand with the other. I knew better than to try and pick the lock - I had no skill in that - but if I used the curved end of the cheap metal nail file and scraped away at the neck of the post where the cuff was until I could crack the end of the knob off…I would be free. Of course, I had to accomplish all of this without waking Sleeping Beauty.

I went to work, only scraping tiny amounts of wood off when he snored. Hours passed and the gray light of early dawn seeped in through the tiny cracks in the curtains. I was more than halfway through the bedpost and, bleeding blisters or not, I would not quit…that was not in my repertoire. He
shifted in the hours of late sleep - his body was waking up. I sucked in a breath and coughed, yanking my cuff and ripping the heavy knob free along with my right arm. I fumbled for the flying knob, but it went sailing out of reach and bounced hard on the shag carpet. I didn’t move except for my eyes and I watched his open, blinking sleepily and looking at me with only minor interest and then his eyes closed again. He rolled away from me, facing the door to the room and started to snore again.

I stood slowly, my cramped muscles screaming in protest. I couldn't remember ever being this scared, and I had had plenty of opportunities, but I was out of practice it seemed. My heart roared blood through my veins until it was the only thing I could hear. I walked around the front of the bed and he still
slept soundly until, of course, I stepped on the broken bed knob, rolled backwards flat onto my back, kicked over the chair, and tore the comforter on the way down, in order to catch my fall. I waited for the pain - broken bones or cracked skull. I was lucky I was holding my breath when I fell, because all the wind would have been knocked out of me. It took less than a second for him to sit up and find me laying there on my back with the t-shirt God knows how high on my legs … at least I hoped it was still that far down.

“What the fuck?” He asked.

To my expressed joy he didn’t sound mad … yet. “I fell on my way to the bathroom.”

“The bathroom is behind you.” Jack narrowed his eyes; sleep all but a distant memory now.
“Didn’t I cuff you …?” He looked over his shoulder at the broken headboard. “I’m going to have to pay for that!”

Okay, now he sounded a little mad.

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