When Jamie Dalton moved into the house her grandparents left her she was just looking to reconnect with her past and settle in familiar surroundings. Digging through the attic for treasures, she found a nearly life-sized statue of a wolf and a very old, very strange book, Legends of the Werewolf. She was shocked when her new neighbor, Mike Volka, introduced himself and the eyes watching her looked just like the wolf in the book. Using the hypnotic power of the shifter, he draws her into his web and they have s*x so hot it nearly burns down the house.
Shifter Lia Popescue is desperate to find the book, Legends of the Werewolf, her only clue as to what happened to her pack. Her attempts to recover it bring her into contact with Riley Morgan, a contact that explodes with s****l chemistry. When she loses her heart to the sexy detective, she wonders how he will handle knowing the truth about her.
USA Today best-selling and award-winning author Desiree Holt writes everything from romantic suspense and paranormal to erotic. and has been referred to by USA Today as the Nora Roberts of erotic romance, and is a winner of the EPIC E-Book Award, the Holt Medallion and a Romantic Times Reviewers Choice nominee. She has been featured on CBS Sunday Morning and in The Village Voice, The Daily Beast, USA Today, The (London) Daily Mail, The New Delhi Times and numerous other national and international publications.
Wolf Tales is created by Desiree Holt, an EGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.
Part One: Eyes of the Wolf
Jamie Dalton lifted the grocery bag filled with Halloween candy and took a moment to inhale the aroma drifting from it. For most people Christmas was their favorite holiday but Jamie had always loved Halloween. From the time she was nine years old she made up fanciful stories about the night, stories of goblins and ghosts and all manner of creatures. As she got older the stories became more intricate, the characters more detailed. By the time she was an adult she was weaving in erotic scenes and drooling over the heroines she created.
"You're nuts," her friend Christina kept telling her. "Either that or missing a bet."
"What do you mean?"
"Why not try writing them down and publishing them? Hell, everyone and their aunt are into selfpub these days. Write the stories, get a good editor, pay for the mechanics and make some money on these."
But Jamie always gave her a dismissive shrug.
"I don't know. I'm not sure they're that good. I really just make them up for myself."
"Whatever you say, girlfriend. But I think you're missing a good bet here."
She wondered what Christina would say if she told her about the wildly erotic dreams she'd been having in her paranormal stories. Maybe she should write them down, except there didn't seem to be an ending. They were more scenes than a complete story and the hero in them was a blur, despite the incredible things they did together.
And how pathetic was she that her s*x life took place only in her imagination? She had apparently turned into the public's skewed view of the librarian. She had never been very good with the opposite s*x, and the few short-lived relationships she'd had were unsatisfactory to both parties.
She sighed, wondering if she was doomed to be an old maid.
When she heard a car door slam she looked over at the driveway next to hers. Her mouth suddenly went dry and her fingers dug into the grocery bag she held. There he was, her brand new neighbor, the man she'd taken to calling Mr. Sexy Hunk. What she wouldn't give for a date with him.
Lame, Jamie. Very lame. Besides, he probably has a list of women a mile long. Any man that hot didn't spend his nights alone unless he wanted to.
She sighed and shifted the bag in her arm. Maybe she should invite him over for Halloween candy. She snorted at the idea. Yes, come over and have candy with the librarian. How exciting. Swallowing a sigh she started up the path to her door when she heard him call to her. At least she was sure it was him since she hadn't seen anyone else outside nearby.
"Hey! Excuse me!"
Ohmigod! Her hands tightened on her bag even more. His voice was so rich and deep it sent shivers up her spine. She turned slowly, careful not to dump anything out of the filled-to-the-brim bag. Unexpectedly a sliver of shock raced through her. There was something eerily familiar about him. Did she know him? Impossible. He was new to the neighborhood and until right now hadn't had any personal contact. Still, she was stunned at the heat she felt shimmering in the air. And the instant response of her body.
What on earth?
He jogged up to her tiny porch, stopping about a foot away. Damn! If his voice was sexy the man in the flesh was too sinful to be let out in public. He was tall, over six feet, she figured, with the lean body of a runner. Thick dark hair swept back from his brow and fell below his shirt collar. Thick eyebrows as dark as the hair on his head and eyes an odd shade of amber highlighted a face with the sculptured look of an artist.
Jamie licked her lips, wondering what his full mouth would taste like.
She was so pitiful. She needed to get out and date more. Or have some stupendous s*x. Or something close to it. Obviously that was her problem.
"Um, hi! I'd offer to shake hands but as you can see mine are full." Well, that was certainly stimulating conversation.
"So I see." Before she even realized what he was doing he eased the bag from her arms. "So you can get your keys out."
"Oh. Oh, yes." The touch of his hands had nearly singed her skin and for some ungodly reason made her think of a graceful beast streaking through a forest.
Feeling like an i***t she fumbled in her purse where she'd accidentally stuffed her key ring. When she had the door open she turned to take the bag from him.
"Thanks so much, Mr. - "
He grinned, the curving of his lips so sexy her panties nearly melted. Good lord! She was in worse shape than she thought.
"Volka. Miko Volka." There was that hot smile again. "Slavic for Michael. It means "Gift from God."
"Is that what you were?" She studied his face. "Or think you are?"
His laugh was rich-sounding and easy. "Not a bit. I was a late in life baby for my parents. I guess they'd about given up when I came along."
"So Miko, huh?"
"Yeah, but call me Mike. Everyone else does. And you are - ?"
"Who? Me?" Stupid much, Jamie? "Uh, Jamie Dalton."
"Nice to meet you, Jamie Dalton." He nodded toward her open door. "Go on in. I'll carry the bag for you."
"Oh, really, that's not necessary. It's not that heavy."
His amber eyes looked hard into hers. "You afraid to be alone with me, Jamie Dalton? I'm harmless, I promise."
Really? He looked more than dangerous to her, with his hot body, his unusual eyes and an air of erotic mystery that surrounded him. She could have sworn the air around her shimmered as those very eyes locked with hers. Everything faded away until it was just the two of them.
Then she blinked, breaking the contact, and the feeling disappeared as quickly as it had come. She wondered if he had a woman he dated steadily. Or even a friend with benefits. Holy hell, what was the matter with her? She just met the guy and already she wanted to rip off both their clothes and fall naked into bed with him. This was so not like her.
Too much time alone and too fertile an imagination, Christina would say.
But there was something strangely familiar about the guy, something she couldn't put her finger on. Maybe it was -
No. Not possible. Really, Jamie.
"Do I need a reference?" he teased, jolting her out of her mental wanderings.
"What?" Heat crept up her cheeks. "Oh, sorry. No, come in. Please."