About the Book: Waking up with a naked woman holding a knife at his throat is just about the last thing Sheriff Travis Flynn expected. And the brother she’s looking for? A murderer. And dead. Probably. But the real shock comes when she insists she’s not a Lycan.
LeAnn Wilcox isn’t looking for love…especially not from some wolf in sheriff’s clothing. She operates on the other side of the law. Once she finds her brother—alive—she’ll get out of the pack’s territory and go back to her regular, normal, non-furry life of changing jobs and her name whenever her past closes in.
The cool, logical Sheriff has finally met his match, but LeAnn’s life is at stake if she won’t claim her place in the pack, especially once his control over the pack is challenged and her brother’s fate is questioned.
About the Author: After a childhood spent wandering as a military brat, Wendy Sparrow finally found her home in Washington State. She spends her days trying to convince her two kids she actually knows how to properly parent and her nights showing her husband all the cool things romance authors know…or goofing around online…or reading, but mostly the first thing. She’s active in the OCD and autism communities and writes on her blog to support awareness in both. With her whole heart, Wendy believes in happily ever afters and that everyone deserves one. If she’s not writing or wrangling kids, she’s on Twitter, @WendySparrow, where she’ll chat with anyone about anything.
Excerpt: It wasn’t every night you woke up with a naked female on top of you and one of your kitchen knives at your throat. This is…unexpected. His pulse kept up its pace despite his mental reminder to “stay calm”—pulses didn’t listen to such things, dammit. This was fine. He was in control. Well, he wasn’t, but he soon would be.
He inhaled, trying not to move…and it hit him. His mouth went dry as his forehead started to sweat. Hormones rushed through his system like he was a teenage boy with a crush—not a grown-ass man, a sheriff, with a genius IQ and a gun somewhere around. Now? Here? Of all the…oh, she smelled good enough to eat…dammit, seriously? Damn was it inconvenient to scent-match to someone wanting to kill you.