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A Promise of Amber

March 9, 2013 | Snippet Saturday

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A Trace of Ivy, Treeland Pack Tales III releases later this month. While each adventure in this series stands alone, I enjoy reading series in order. Last Saturday I posted an except from A Taste of Scarlet, the first Treeland Pack Tale for like minded readers. If you missed it here’s a link. This week’s teaser is from the second book in the series.

From A Promise of Amber, Treeland Pack Tales II

 

Truman nodded, grateful for an excuse not to talk. Slightly famous for his smooth patter with females, right this moment he didn’t have a coherent word to say. His tongue felt thick, dry, and hot. In fact, he was decidedly hotter all over than his normal one hundred and seven degrees.

Fluffing his loose Hawaiian shirt, he hoped to hide the instant erection straining the front of his cowboy-tight jeans.

She kept her eyes lowered and whispered, “Is it safe to go upstairs, sir?”

“Afraid we’re stuck for a while. There’s been a couple of cave-ins,” he croaked.

When her face paled further at his news flash, he limbered up his tongue and raced on to reassure her. “Hey, we’re in the safest place around. My pack brothers will dig us out before you have time to get bored with me.”

Another scramble of feet jerked her attention to the ceiling.

“Goblins,” he growled.

She seemed to shrink at his mention of the oily little monsters but gave him a small nod of understanding and crossed to the open door.

Following the sensual sway of lush hips under a thin skirt, he made the effort to keep his mouth closed. He was already hard enough to crush rock and felt like a complete beast. Make that more of a beast than usual.

Though he was young for the job, he was an enforcer and Hunter’s second. An honor he’d fought for and won fairly. If nothing else did, then his pack rank made him a male of worth. Like every other Treeland enforcer, he held himself to a strict standard of honor. Hitting on the newly bereaved was definitely not part of the good-guy code.

She stopped, turned, and still swayed. A sharp urge to bang his head on the wall hit him as he realized the sway wasn’t about being seductive. She was unsteady on her feet, and her chin quivered as if she fought back tears—confirmation of his brilliant deduction.

That put a blue ribbon on him in the who’s-the-sickest-animal-around contest. Here she was about to pass out from shock and grief, and he was still thinking about how much he’d like to be skin to skin with her.

What she needed was what mattered. That would be his strength, comfort, and protection. Definitely not any hot and dirty action.

Another scurry of goblins overhead gave him fresh priorities.

“More…goblins, sir?”

“Company we don’t want.” He ushered her firmly into the safety of the reinforced bunker, keeping a hand on her back just in case she fainted. He found the switch to seal them inside and flipped it. “What can I do to help?”

“Could you give me a hug, sir?” Her impossibly thick lashes lifted, and her big brown eyes shone with enchanting glints of gold as she anxiously searched his face.

Everything about her said Psi, extra sensitive, and recently bruised to hell; handle with care. Yet here she was looking to him for kindness and a little simple comfort. Not exactly the ultracool, ultrafun, and ultrasmart Gamma guy’s specialty.

For her, he’d sure as hell try.

Next Saturday a snippet from a A Trace of Ivy

Posted by Evanne @ 4:00 am  

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