PreOrder now Available! Taming Taelyn

Northern Rockies Pack #3

Taming Taelyn

http://www.AnneKane.com

BLURB:

Taelyn: Abandoned by her parents. Raised in the uncaring foster system. Taelyn finds out she isn’t truly human when fear triggers her first shift. Adopted by a pack of gray wolves, she knows she isn’t truly one of them either. When she feels the pull of the mate-bond, her world changes forever.

Dylan: Dylan is more at home in the woods than the city. Working for the Forestry Services, he sets out to catalog the endangered grizzly bear population in the Interior of British Columbia. What he didn’t expect was to find his bond-mate running wild with a pack of gray wolves.

Taming Taelyn is a challenge Dylan is determined to win.

EXCERPT:

The wolf part of him wanted to claim her, to force her to submit to him. The human part of him knew better. Long gone were the days when a female felt the need to do whatever her mate told her to. The last thing he needed was for his new mate to think he was a jerk who just wanted to dominate her. He wanted a whole lot more from his mate.

He needed to keep his lust in check while he wooed her and convinced her to accept the mate-bond. He’d watched his packmates with their better halves long enough to know that when it came to females, compliments and presents went a whole lot further than issuing orders. It just hadn’t occurred to him that when and if he found his mate, she’d run as far and fast as she could to get away from him.

Not exactly an ego booster.

The little female slowed, glancing back over her shoulder at him. He wanted to think she was making sure he was still there, but he couldn’t shake the niggling doubt that said she was hoping he’d given up.

He lifted his head and let out a gruff bark, acknowledging her attention.

She ignored him, turning her attention to the tree line looming just ahead. She didn’t even slow down, he noted, darting between two towering pines and disappearing into the shadows beyond.

He plunged in behind her. There was no chance he’d lose her with her tantalizing scent strong in his nostrils. He slowed for a moment though, stumbling as his eyes adjusted to the dim light.

In this section of the old-growth coniferous forest, the trees had grown tall and majestic. Their thick upper branches allowed only a thin filter of light to shine through and as a result, there was little undergrowth. Decades of fallen needles cushioned the ground making for soft footing. He lifted his head, hoping to catch a glimpse of her.

There. Off to his right. Although he couldn’t see her, that irresistible scent was strong. And getting stronger. She’d stopped moving away from him. It took a moment for that to register. He moved in her direction. Slowly now, stalking carefully. It was too much to expect she’d suddenly become enamored of his awesome wolf, so her sudden change of tactic made him nervous.

He heard rustling sounds coming from just over the rise, and the realization hit him. She was shifting. Hope welled up inside him. She wanted to talk!

He looked around wildly, spotting a hollow with a few scraggly shrubs. Not much for cover, but it would have to do. Hurrying over, he crouched down and prepared for the change. It came quickly, hurried by the adrenaline still pumping through his system. He lay still for a moment, waiting for the disorientation of the change to subside.

Damn. No clothes. Then again, most werewolves were used to seeing each other in the nude, but convincing a female he’d only just met that his intentions were honorable was going to be difficult given the massive hard-on that he couldn’t control. The fact that clothing didn’t shift along with the wolf could be inconvenient at times like this. Maybe he’d get lucky, and she’d consider it a compliment? He could always hope.

Rising to his feet he strode toward the knoll. And stopped.

She stood on top of the small rise directly in front of him, legs akimbo and hands placed on her hips. She was as naked as he, and magnificent with curves in all the right places, and a shiny mane of dark hair cascading down her back. Even the stormy look on her face didn’t distract from her allure.

Her lips curled in a snarl. “Go away and leave me alone!”

Not exactly a declaration of undying love, but then he hadn’t expected one.

“Not going to happen, darling.” He took a cautious step toward her. “I know you can feel the mate-bond. We’re destined for each other.”

The dark-haired goddess lifted one imperial eyebrow and snorted. “Does that line usually work for you?”

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#Werewolves. #Romance. Technical Difficulties.

Sonya is straight. She’s also terrified of werewolves. So, when she’s forced to work with a male-to-female transgender wolf, the last thing she expects is to fall in love. But, hey, not so fast. Falling in love with a werewolf means living in her pack, where first-time sex equals mating. For life.

Author: Emily Carrington

Cover Art: Angela Knight

BIN: 009019-02918

Genres: Action AdventureNew ReleasesParanormalRomanceUrban Fantasy

Themes: Bisexual, Pansexual & Gender Non-ConformingElves, Dragons & Magical CreaturesMulticultural & InterracialShapeshiftersWerewolves

Series: Lady Troubles (#1)

Multiverse: Searchlight (#7)

Book Length: Novella

Page Count: 121
Price: $4.99   $4.24

Technical Difficulties (Lady Trouble 1)
Emily Carrington
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Emily Carrington

The dragon had been brutalized. As Medical Technician Sonya Johnson worked over the corpse, she couldn’t miss the signs. The poor dragon-in-human-guise was female. She’d given birth recently. Her distended stomach, open cervix, and other signs all bore witness to this.

Sonya whispered, “I think you were dead when most of these were inflicted.” She’d quickly discovered the cause of death: a crushed skull that had occurred while the dragon was in human form. Now all she wanted was to be done chronicling the postmortem atrocities and see to it that the poor soul had a decent burial.

Sonya smiled just a little. Thinking of any dragon as a “poor soul” was a little like calling a lion a kitty cat. Dragons, like werewolves, she thought with a shudder, were known for taking care of themselves. Both apex predators of the magical world, for slightly different reasons, they were treated with respect and almost obsessive politeness by other magical beings and the few humans unlucky enough to know about their existence.

“Humans like me.” Her smile was gone as she finished cataloging the last injury. Shaking her head, Sonya covered the body with a sheet and left the autopsy room. She locked the door before heading into her office.

All right, so it wasn’t technically “her” office any more than the autopsy room belonged to her. But she thought of both as her property because she spent more time in them than anyone else. That was thanks to the doctoral-level degree she was seeking from SearchLight Academy in Reptilian Magical Creatures: Treatment and Dissection. Unlike those who studied humans, magical creature experts were expected to have a wider knowledge base. The closest comparison Sonya could make was a general-practice physician. And even they weren’t responsible for both the living and the dead.

She had just finished her second year of postgraduate work. It was May. She had a blissful ten weeks off for the summer. Of course, she was still expected to work on her dissertation, so “rest” wasn’t in her vocabulary. But she wouldn’t be attending biweekly meetings with this or that professor to discuss her research. She might even have considered a week away from the city of Tampa, where she worked, and its lesser cousin, the city of St. Petersburg, where she lived. But she hadn’t scheduled any time off because she’d been too fixated on her dissertation to think beyond the next few days.

Someone knocked on the office door. Not closed completely and made of a light pressboard, the door opened a little more. Sonya caught sight of a skirt in a bold print and a tapered shoe. She called, “Come in.”

A woman stepped inside, saying simply “Sorry to disturb you” — and Sonya’s mind went sideways. Not because there was anything particularly wrong with the voice. It was just that she wasn’t used to hearing a slightly male-sounding voice coming out of a woman’s body.

Transgender. That’s what they call themselves. And, on the heels of that, I hate it when someone says “they” about my people so I will not start out by thinking of this person as a part of “they.” She’s dressed as a woman. I’ll call her “her.”

“Um,” she said uncomfortably, “you’re not. Please sit down.”

The transgender person — the woman, Sonya scolded herself — didn’t sit. Neither did she shut the door. “Thanks, but…” She looked briefly discomfited. “I’m Agent Brown. Maxine.”

That surely wasn’t the name you were born with. Oh, shut the fuck up! She doesn’t want you staring, and you will get over yourself.

Sonya realized Maxine was waiting for a response. Her small, delicate and frankly attractive nose was turning slightly red, just like Sonya’s did when she was embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” she said, rising and extending her hand. “I’m Sonya Johnson, one of the medical techs.”

The moment their hands touched, the hair on the back of Sonya’s neck stood up. She pulled back rather quickly. “Um… um…” She looked away from the hand she’d shaken and into eyes that were startling in their beauty. Honey-brown and shadowed by long, thick lashes, they took Sonya’s breath away. She forgot for a moment that her neck was prickling and smiled. “How may I help you?”

Maxine, who had taken a step forward to grip Sonya’s hand, retreated at least that far. “Agent Wellington wants to see you when it’s convenient.” She hesitated before adding, “He’s the head of Werewolf Watch.”

Sonya shivered. She couldn’t help herself. She hated werewolves. They were the craziest, most terrifying — Oh, get ahold of yourself. If you’re being called, you specifically… She met Maxine’s eyes. “You are looking for me, right? Because Jenny Davis could –”

“I’m sorry. He wants you personally.” She really did look empathetic. “If it helps, it will just be him, you, and me in a large conference room.”

Sonya’s particular skills were needed. She specialized in dragons and basilisks. What could she possibly do for a werewolf? Because Wellington had to be a werewolf. Unlike in the Department of Dragons, with which Sonya worked on a regular basis, Werewolf Watch was stuffed to capacity with, well, what else? Werewolves.

Shit. That probably means this woman is a werewolf. She looked directly into Maxine’s eyes, needing to know. “You’re a werewolf too?”

Maxine nodded. “Agent Wellington said to tell you he understands your circumstances, whatever those are, and that he wouldn’t call for you unless it was absolutely necessary. He also promises you can have a large conference room and it will only be the three of us; Agent Wellington, you, and me. We want to make you as comfortable as possible.”

Whatever those are. She doesn’t know. Sonya felt a little better. “Can he give me fifteen minutes to… to…” She glanced down at her report. To finish my work flashed across her mind, but it would take at least two hours to do that.

“I’ll tell him you’ll be up in thirty,” Maxine said gently.

Feeling a little more comforted, Sonya said, “Thank you. I’ll be up soon.”

Maxine left, closing the door behind her. Black, like me. But transgender and werewolf. The three modifiers to the name Agent Maxine Brown hit one right after the other. Sonya sank into her chair and covered her face with her hands. If she was going to have a prayer of working with werewolves…

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