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A Taste of Scarlet Teaser

January 14, 2014 | Fan Friday,Teaser Tuesday

Treeland Pack I 500 X 666

A Taste of Scarlet re-released last Friday. Here’s a snippet that always reminds me how much I love the wolfies!


Approaching footsteps thudded, growing louder the closer they came until the sound drowned out everything except the pounding of her heart.

He was back. Scarlet fought an urge to run.

Her inner bitch hummed back to life, startling Scarlet again. A response to the Alpha? There was nothing else it could be. The Omega stretched, arching her back and sniffed appreciatively, all but shoving Scarlet toward the Alpha.

Oh what she wouldn’t give for five minutes of solid communication with her long-dormant wolf.

While Scarlet was distracted by her inner bitch, the beaming Mr. Coleson set her groceries on the counter behind him.

“Sheriff, good to see you. Have you met Scarlet?”

“’Fraid not.”

Sheriff? Didn’t that just put the frosting on her cake? For the first time, she registered the uniform. How to make an Alpha even worse — give him a badge and gun. She turned, making herself meet the male’s gaze.
Blinking to dissipate the power of his stormy gray eyes, she took in his strong nose, heavy brows, and full lips quirking at the corners. Like most Alphas, he was breath-catchingly gorgeous and dripping with sensual charisma. No doubt, he’d worn out batons staving off the local women.

A whiff of his leather, woods, and wild animal sex fragrance liquefied her knees.

“Scarlet walked,” Mr. Coleson said reprovingly. “She needs a ride home.”

“I’ll handle it.” The sheriff unloaded a loaf of Rye, a package of havarti, and bag of chips on the counter, watching her all the while. “Ring me up.”

“Sure thing.” The traitorous Mr. Coleson moved jauntily, ringing and bagging.

Clearly he was oblivious to the tension between her and sheriff, not to mention unaffected by the Alpha’s incredible scent. Good thing too; if he noticed they weren’t exactly human, there’d be hell to pay. She didn’t need more complications.

Despite her effort to stand still, Scarlet fidgeted under the weight of the sheriff’s scrutiny, wishing she could grab her groceries and go, but his steady gaze held her as surely as if she’d been bound and gagged. An image of herself in cruel silver chains with a filthy rag stuffed in her mouth flashed through her mind’s eye, leaving her shaky and nauseated. Her inner bitch’s presence vanished.

The sheriff took both bags in one capable looking hand, cupped her elbow with the other, and steered her out of the store. “Take it easy, Red. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Now he read minds too? No, he’d probably caught scent of her fear. Goddess knew the depressing tang was all she could smell. There was nothing she could do about her telltale odor, but she didn’t have to cower and snivel. She straightened her spine. “Thanks.”

“You here for a visit?”

“Something like that.”

His light grip on her arm firmed until her bones felt the squeeze. He stopped.

Instantly, she regretted evading his question.

“May I see some identification?” His sensual mouth tightened, and Alpha power edged the mild words.

She fought the rising tide of fear at the sharp tone of his suspicion and lost the battle. She looked away from his tight face, unable to meet his eyes, and then darted peeks at him through her lashes. Technically, he’d asked a nice respectful question, but she wasn’t silly enough to believe refusing to answer was a real option.

Tingling licks of flame teased her skin wherever his gaze brushed it; it felt as if he’d actually touched her. While she fumbled for her ID, heat streaked up her neck. Great. The redhead’s curse — an ugly blush was searing her face.

After an age, her clumsy fingers extracted her driver’s license from the leather case

He took the identification and studied it with a stony expression. “Any other picture ID?”

“No. She bit her tongue to keep from adding anything else she’d regret.

“Is this your current address?”

For a second she thought his gray eyes warmed. A wild imagination was so not helpful. Especially not when dealing with Alphas, a sub-species of werewolf totally missing the humor gene. She almost answered yes automatically before she caught the trick in his question. With a lift of her chin, she said, “It’s my permanent address. Currently I’m staying at my grandfather’s place. He left it to me.”

He didn’t answer right away.

“Satisfied?” she hissed like a shrew.

This time, she didn’t imagine the sparkle in his eyes or the quirk at one corner of his surprisingly generous lips, and new hot spots sparked to life in her breasts and between her legs.

“No.” He gave her another long, slow perusal, finally handing back her driver’s license. “Not by a long shot.”

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Posted by Evanne @ 4:00 am  

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