Thursday, September 5, 2019

Coming Home to Los Lobos...



Our families are like small communities where we reminisce about the good old days and look forward to seeing the babies that are being born to those we remember as being babies. But what if you didn’t have any of that?

What if you had to hide who and what you really were? What if you had to be afraid of getting too close to someone for fear of them learning a secret that could get you killed? And what if the one place where you could reveal who you really were, was more dangerous than what you were hiding from? Would you accept help from someone you might be putting in harm’s way?

While humans are protective when it comes to our families, we’ve had centuries to civilize our true natures and that might be why romance readers love the idea of the primitive natures that comprise the shifter world of the Black Hills Wolves. I don’t think there is anything sexier than a protective mate and Gunnar Redmond, the hero of His To Protect,  and J.D. Decker, the hero of His To Claim are prime examples.

Blurb:

Not everyone is happy about welcoming the daughter of one of the old alpha’s henchmen, home. Old wounds and secrets are exposed and to make matters worse, Drew Tao, the new alpha has reason to suspect that she might have revealed the packs most closely guarded secret when she escaped the crazed survivalist that had been keeping her prisoner.

None of that matters to Gunnar. He’s known Luna was his mate since finding her naked and shivering on pack land and he’ll do anything to keep her. With their wolves clawing to mate and danger closing in, anyone who wants to hurt her will have to go through him first. 

 
Excerpt:

Gunnar Redmond’s blood still raced from his morning run, and the female’s musky scent hit him doubly hard. The haggard white wolf had been running in a straight line since she’d hit the perimeter a few minutes ago. Nothing ran that hard unless something chased it, and he didn’t see or smell anything following her. Too soon to call a warning for something he could probably handle himself, the pack protector kept well behind his quarry. The third time she stumbled, his wolf reached for her, nearly stopping him in his tracks.
The urge to catch her before she fell surprised him. He breathed in her scent once more, finding her human nature had become much stronger and stank of a fear so fierce it permeated the crisp autumn air. She’d transformed. The scent grew stronger. His quarry had stopped, perhaps to get her bearings.
Every wolf in Los Lobos knew the location of the pack land boundaries.
She was obviously lost and confused.
Downwind and hidden by a small stand of trees, Gunnar crouched on the crest of a small hill. Naked and filthy, twigs and leaves riddled her tangled mess of dark hair that reached past her shoulders. Mud streaked her bare arms and legs. Her thin flanks trembled as she rubbed her hands up and down her arms and looked around. She might not be very tall, but her obvious curves left no doubt she was all woman.
His wolf whined.
 If he waited any longer, his wolf was going to behave inappropriately. Knocking her down so he could clean her and show his obvious interest probably wouldn’t win him any points. He stood and unbuttoned his shirt as he walked down the short incline.
The wind shifted, and she lifted her nose, turned, and froze. Her dark eyes widened, and he scented the fear she tried to hide. His size intimidated most, but her gaze had locked on his fingers, still working his shirt buttons free, and it occurred to him what the situation must look like.
Nice going, dumbass.
He let his arms drop and sighed. “Did you know you were trespassing?”
Her shoulders slumped. She stared at him a moment, and her mouth worked in a silent effort that seemed to frustrate her. Finally, her words tumbled like so much static from a radio. “Am I in Los Lobos?”
Gunnar nodded, and a shaky smile quirked one corner of her mouth.
“My name is Luna Sinclair, and I beg sanctuary.”









***HIS TO CLAIM***
He’s home to find the truth…

Once he’s over the initial shock of hearing his father hasn’t been dead for the past twelve years, J.D. Decker vacillates between joy and anger until he returns to Los Lobos and finds the man who sent him away threatening Bree Redmond, the only other person he’s ever cared about as much.

After years of living under a harsh alpha, Bree Redmond is intent on experiencing everything life has to offer, and ignoring her family’s wishes that she settle on a mate and help rebuild the Tao pack. When J.D. Decker jumps out of his truck, and back into her life, she realizes why she’s never been eager to settle.

They aren’t kids anymore and J.D. has Bree howling at the moon and questioning her desire for nothing more than a sexy romp in the woods. He’s a blunt force and rough around the edges, but he ignites all of her deepest desires with his single-minded determination to make her his.

Bree’s family isn’t happy about her budding romance with the son of a man they feel is responsible for the death of one of their own. Old wounds are reopened and as tempers flare Bree must decide whether to let a dark secret from the past separate them, or defy her family and accept J.D.’s claiming. 

Excerpt: Rated: R for Language

An aged, rust-pitted, light-blue pickup with a black hood and green driver’s side door, with a dirty, white camper shell covering its bed, turned into the yard. The thing appeared to be held together with bubblegum and baling wire. The windshield wipers had swiped a mud-streaked half-moon and must have allowed the driver to see at least a portion of the road and enough of the yard to stop before he reached the porch steps.
The driver, nostrils flaring, barreled out of the truck as soon as the engine died. Bree glanced at the lean, dark-haired man wearing worn jeans and a clean white T-shirt, and experienced an unsettling moment of instant recognition. The same dark, curly lashes surrounded his smoky topaz eyes, but time had carved cheekbones into the youthful face she hadn’t seen in twelve years.
His mouth worked for a few seconds, and then he yelled, “What the fucking hell!”
Wherever he’d been, he’d acquired some interesting vocabulary skills.
His fist still raised, Ray glared at the interloper, and she knew he didn’t realize who’d challenged him.
“Jacob Donovan Decker.” She sounded like a schoolmarm addressing him by his given name instead of J.D., but she would have done anything to break the tension.
Ray’s glare withered. He lowered his arm and smoothed his good hand over the wrinkled placket of his grubby, dirt-brown flannel shirt, but nothing would make it cleaner or less wrinkled. He opened his mouth. Nothing came out but a short, shallow hiss. A study in abject misery, he slumped against the battered screen door and hung his head. His chest heaved in an attempt to stifle a sob.
J.D.’s confused gaze settled on her for a moment, and he raised one dark brow. “Hello, Briana Hortensia Redmond. You want to step off of the porch and tell me what the hell is going on here?”
“We were discussing the merits of being neighborly. If you want to know anything else, you’re going to need to ask your father.”
She sidestepped the hamper, and Ray mumbled, “Take your stuff,” as she passed.
“J.D. can return the basket when you’re finished. There’s plenty for both of you.”
He slipped inside the cabin and let the screen door whoosh shut behind him.
Without being able to focus on Ray, she didn’t have an excuse for avoiding the calculating gaze of J.D. Decker. Judging by his expression, he hadn’t forgotten how, when she’d turned twelve, she’d caught him skinny-dipping and stolen his clothes. Of course, she hadn’t forgotten he’d planted a sign in her front yard declaring she had freckles on her butt, either. Their war had lasted all summer. By the time fall had arrived, their childhoods had been swept away by a budding attraction neither had acknowledged and the reality of how dangerous life in the Tao pack had become.
“Where have you been?”
“Wherever I could find work and someplace to run. Imagine my surprise when Drew Tao tracked me down and told me my father needed me. Something the man himself has never bothered to do,” he shouted, loud enough for someone in the next county to hear.
She glanced at the door but couldn’t see Ray. “Look, things got bad around here for a long time. After you left—”
“He sent me away.” Ray had never explained J.D.’s disappearance, but it had probably kept him safe during those mad, bad times.
“Then you were lucky.”
His angular jaw firmed, and she got a glimpse of how handsome Ray must have been at twenty-five. “I’ve spent twelve years thinking the only reason he didn’t come after me was because he was dead. Still think I’m lucky?” His fury simmered below the surface.
She couldn’t imagine coping with the pain of losing a parent now, let alone when she’d been a kid, but he’d missed the point. “Since you’ve been gone, we’ve all learned to be grateful for every piece of happiness we could manage, so yes, I think you’re lucky. You still have a father you thought you’d lost, but he needs help. He isn’t eating, and I don’t think he’s sleeping. I thought I was making a little headway by getting him to accept an occasional pot of soup or plate of cookies, but I guess not.”
He frowned, and his gaze drifted toward the cabin. “How long has he been like this?”
“Since Luna Sinclair came home.”
“What’s Luna Sinclair got to do with all of this? Drew would only tell me he had part of the story, and he wants it all.”
“I suggest you ask Ray. Without his side, anything I tell you would only be speculation, and I think he deserves more.”
“Did it occur to any of you his part of the story might be a place to start?”
“Has it occurred to you only knowing part of the story might be the problem?”


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Kobo: https://bit.ly/2r3kkop


As you can tell, the common thread running through my stories in Decadent's, Black HIlls Wolves series is coming home. I hope you've enjoyed the excerpts!

Until next month,
Happy Reading!


Paris Brandon



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