Series: Cowboy Wolf Series #3
Publication date: December 23rd, 2020
Synopsis:
He swore he would never lose control again. Then she walked in the door.
Roz Kingman believes her ex in-laws threats, and that she is living on borrowed time when she relocates to Idaho. Intending to work off her bucket list while she can, she decides the surly rancher, Drake McCullough, is the perfect man to appease her kinky fantasies, and doesn't let his obstinance deter her.
Drake's tortured memories of escaping his two Taliban abusers keep him from getting involved in personal relationships other than his family. The moment he realizes the flirty brunette is his mate, he vows to protect them both by staying clear of her wiles, no matter how much he craves to make her his.
When separate vandalism incidents appear to be direct threats against Roz, there is no way Drake will refuse to protect her, no matter the risk his involvement may pose to losing his shaky control. Will succumbing to each other offer a chance for redemption and freedom, or will the gamble cost them both everything?
DISCLAIMER: This steamy, contemporary Western romance contains explicit sexual scenes, and elements of mystery, suspense, and power exchange. Please do not buy this book if any of these offend you.
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Excerpt
Heedless of the cold, Drake tore outside, fisted his hands on her hips, and bent at the waist, gasping for air. Reliving the fear, degradation, and pain never failed to rouse the beast in him, that craving for bloody retaliation and revenge. His wolf gouged his gut, needing the release Drake hungered for, the animal's feral instinct merging with that part of Drake's psyche that had allowed the wolf to kill once before.
No! He delivered the command with as much fierceness as he could muster as he set off for the stable. His acute hearing picking up the muffled shuffling of Mona and her baby from inside, the hoot of an owl, the click of cicadas, and the far off baying of a brother wolf, yet the familiar nighttime sounds failed to soothe his frayed conscience. The stable blocked the slight north breeze as he rounded the corner and headed to his punching bag hanging under one meager lightbulb.
Forgoing gloves, he laid into the worn, padded leather with his fists, putting every ounce of his strength behind each pummeling blow. The bag swung, twirled, and snapped back at him, but he kept up the steady barrage, punishing himself over and over, ignoring the pain as his skin tore open and his knuckle cramped. His arms grew heavy, his shoulders ached as the chills turned to sweat, and it hurt to breathe.
"Drake."
Roz's soft voice filtered through the roaring in his head, scaring the hell out of him. Whipping his head around, he caught the bag, sucking in a much-needed lungful of air. He was still teetering too close to the edge for comfort, nerves and desperation making him lash out in panic.
"Get your ass back into the house. I'll be in shortly."
"No."
Her adamant refusal ignited his temper. "Fuck, Roz, would you do as I say, for once?" She shook her head, stepping closer instead of leaving. His throat went dry, and he held up a hand. "Damn it. I'm not kidding. Go inside. Now."
She paused, hugging her arms around her, and he noticed she'd donned his flannel shirt. And fuck it, he liked seeing it dwarf her. He held his breath, praying she wouldn't turn stubborn, or worse, flirtatious. She did neither after her calm, contemplative gaze turned decisive. When she lifted her arm instead of walking away, he opened his mouth to utter a more forceful command, needing her gone, but her next words stopped him cold.
Pushing up the sleeve of his oversized shirt, Roz held out her damaged arm. "I defended myself against my husband when he broke my arm in retaliation for trying to leave him. He's still in a coma from the blow I delivered with the closest object, a lamp. His mother and uncle have promised I'll pay, and they have the resources and connections to make that happen."
Hearing her confession snapped the precarious hold he'd managed to retain on his emotions. Drake reached her in two long strides, the need to strike out against her abuser riding him as hard as the compulsion to mark her with his bite and scent, forever binding her to him. The scene her words implanted in his head screamed for retribution, was tinder to inflame every fear he'd harbored for ten years over getting close to anyone other than his family.
I live in the Midwest with my husband and our Goldendoodle. I love dogs, enjoy spending time with my daughter, grandchildren, reading and working puzzles. We have traveled extensively throughout the states, Canada and just once overseas, but I now much prefer being a homebody. I worked for a while writing articles for a local magazine but soon found my interest in writing for myself peaking. My first book was strictly spanking erotica, but I slowly evolved to writing steamy romance with a touch of suspense. My favorite genre to read is suspense. I love hearing from readers. Feel free to contact me at bjwane@cox.net with questions or comments.
