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Vamp, Wolf, or Shifter?

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love-triangle
shifter
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Blurb

Quinn Price is your average high school senior—at least, until her parents die in a car accident and she is adopted by Aidan Roswell, the mysterious millionaire from a small town in Florida. Suddenly she’s surrounded by unnervingly handsome faces, strange looks, and even stranger behavior -- possibly even danger.

But who should she trust—Aidan’s smooth and charming son, Cooper? The dark, mysterious bad boy, Dean? Or her best friend from back home, Finn? And how will she react when she realizes paranormal forces are at work here—possibly even inside her?

EXCERPT:

“He kissed you?” he asks me in a voice as low and deep as his growl.

I feel bad for causing him pain—truly, I do.

But I don’t feel that bad, because if he really doesn’t want other boys kissing me, he should start doing it himself.

“Only for a second,” I reply. My voice is strained and breathy. When did he get so close to me? My heart is pounding. “Ten, at the most.”

Another growl. Somehow, he seems to make his way even closer to me without taking a single step. “Did you like it?”

I rack my brain for something clever to say, but in this moment, with him so close to me, as I ache to wrap my legs around him and cling to his giant, muscled body, I forget how to be clever. All I can do is be honest with him.

A little too honest.

“It lacked passion,” I breathe to him, my voice barely more than a whisper.

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Welcome Home
If I filled you in on the entire saga of how I came to arrive at the Roswell Estate, you’d probably become so, utterly depressed, you’d stop reading. So I’ll give you the Cliffnotes version: my parents died in a car crash, and a random, rich man I’ve never met before named Aidan Roswell swooped in to adopt me. I know it sounds crazy. I’m a seventeen-year-old girl from Georgia with one friend, no money, and a dog named Balto. What the hell does a millionaire want with me? Well, your guess is as good as mine. But here I am. The Roswell Estate is even bigger in person than it was in the pictures Aidan showed me. Its main building looks to be about the size of the White House, if I had to guess, but the similarities end there; it’s a dark, gloomy, Gothic sort of place that looks more like a medieval castle than a modern estate.  There’s a guest house off to the right that’s pretty similar in aesthetics, and off to the left, there’s some sort of maze-garden-pool combo that actually looks vaguely entertaining. Not that I’m suddenly excited to be here, or anything. I’m still some sort of painful cross between terrified and numb. “Quinn!” greets a voice from the front door as the tall, familiar figure of Aidan Roswell steps through it. “Welcome home!” Welcome home…  The words make me want to punch something. Actually, they make me want to punch a whole bunch of things. Home is that little cottage in the North Georgia mountains where I used to curl up by the fire and listen to my parents tell me bedtime stories. Home is my old school, where my best friend Finn and I would sit at a table by ourselves at lunch and glare back at everyone who dared to glare at us. Home is… Balto, my beloved Siberian Husky, nudges my leg with his snout. I heave a sigh, reaching down to pet him as I coax him forward toward the mansion. At least I’ve got one thing left that still reminds me of home. Aidan told me when we met the first time that he had a son who was about my age, but I find it hard to believe. He doesn’t look much older than thirty, maybe thirty-five. He’s handsome, I have to admit, with bright, blue eyes and wavy, blond hair—though the last thing I plan on doing is crushing on the man who’s just adopted me. Besides, there’s something way too spooky about his crooked, smug smile. His teeth are too white—and too sharp. “You’re sure you want that to keep that mutt?” Aidan asks me with a wrinkled nose as he leads me through the impressive grand foyer and toward the giant, spiral staircase.  I glance down at Balto, who, while a bit mangy, is by no means a mutt. As usual, Balto stays glued to my side despite being off-leash. “Um… yes.” “Suit yourself,” Aidan says with a shrug. We’ve reached the staircase, which he starts to ascend. “Coop!” he shouts as we walk. “She’s here!” If I thought the fair-haired, fair-eyed Aidan Roswell was handsome, well, boy, was I in for a rude awakening. His son Cooper is much more my type. He’s got the same light, striking eyes as his father, but the similarities end there. His hair is much darker, cropped short and sharp where his father’s is wavy and sleek. His features are sharper and better-defined, with a pointed nose, strong jawline, and tight, muscled shoulders and biceps that, well, look like they could pick a girl right up and carry her. He’s still slender, though. Tall and thin, with just enough muscles. Delicious. Not that it matters. For one thing, I’ve sworn off men after too many bad experiences. And for another, this guy is, as of very recently, my stepbrother. Stepbrother? Adopted brother? Either way, it’s gross. Cooper crosses his arms when he sees me, scanning me from head to toe in a very obvious assessment of my appearance. When he’s finished, he glances over at his father with a dubious expression. “No way.” I don’t know what no way is supposed to mean, and I’m not sure I want to. To my surprise, Aidan only chuckles and says, “Told you.” This time, it’s me who crosses her arms. “What does that mean?” “Nothing,” they say simultaneously. Aidan flashes that eerie smile at me, then gestures toward his son. “Cooper will take you to your room. Get settled in, and I’ll send someone to escort you to dinner in about an hour.” And, with that, he disappears back down the stairs. I turn slowly back to Cooper, arms still crossed. “Are you planning on telling me what that little exchange was about?” “Oh—that.” Cooper sends me an effortlessly sexy smile. “He told me before you got here that you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. I didn’t believe him.” I stiffen, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He turns on his heel to guide me to my room, and I follow him on tight, mechanical legs. Once I gather the ability to speak again, I say, “He just adopted me. Don’t you think it’s a little messed up that he called me ‘pretty’?” He comes to a stop at one of the doors, but turns back toward me, considering my question, without yet opening the door. “Why do you think he adopted you?”  “I…” Is he implying what I think he’s implying? “If that’s why, then I shouldn’t even bother unpacking—” “Relax.” He laughs. “He isn’t interested in making moves on a seventeen-year-old girl, Quinn. All I’m saying is, there might be more to his grand plan than just helping out a girl in need.” I still have no idea what this guy is talking about, but I already regret having asked the questions I’ve asked so far; I’m not sure I want to know anything else about this so-called “family” who’s taken me in. So I look pointedly at the door, waiting for him to open it. When he does, I temporarily forget the insanity of the circumstance I’ve been placed in. In fact, I forget everything except the beauty and grandiosity of my new room. Its walls are a deep, dark emerald. A giant, canopy bed sits against the back wall, with bright, gold fabric that seems to light up the entire room. Framed paintings of various supernatural creatures, from witches and fairies to werewolves and vampires, litter the walls. It’s the coolest room I’ve ever seen. “Chin up, beautiful,” Cooper tells me as he watches me take it all in. “You’re in for quite the adventure now that you’re with us.”

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