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Adam Steel is the only known shape-shifter held in captivity. His captors seek one thing: to witness his transformation from Human to Giant Irish Wolfhound. Adam refuses to cooperate, fearing mutilation if he does. In order to endure life behind bars, he focuses on Dixie Mulholland, the only girl he’s ever loved.
On the night Dixie confessed her love for Adam, she discovered she was a Daemon. Adjusting to that reality leaves her suspicious and fearful. She has no idea if Adam is alive, but after receiving messages from “the other side,” all that is about to change.
Thanks to an unlikely ally, Adam escapes prison and reunites with Dixie. They rekindle their romance while unraveling a plot to destroy humanity. In a city of sin, passion, and chance, Adam and Dixie gamble on love being their only hope.
Five o’clock in the afternoon and the sun starts sliding behind the Spring Mountains, the hottest part of the day. After re-confirming our rendezvous tomorrow, the others leave the house, and Dixie and I finally find ourselves alone. The only sound is the grandfather clock tick-tocking in the entry hall, and the whoosh of air from the circulating fans. I hardly notice any of it; my full focus rests on Dixie.
“Will you tell me what’s going on?”
She kisses me. “I promised you there’d be time for us.”
Her arms around me feel comfortable and warm. She presses her body into mine, her head resting on my chest. “There’s something I need to ask you.”
I put my arms around her and kiss her. If she wants to make sure how I feel about her, this is the best way I know to answer.
She pulls away a few inches. “It’s about Marco Ramirez.”
Now it’s my turn to back up a little. “What do you mean? I don’t follow.”
“Something Cutty said earlier.” She turns around and steps toward the fireplace. “He said we can’t rely on the military or the police to help us. I agree, both bound by protocols and procedure. The last thing we need is their involvement, but Marco’s different. He knows the truth about The Disaster, about the wolfhounds and Daemons. I didn’t want to get him involved, but we sure could use his help.”
“Why are you telling me this? Why don’t you just call him?”
“I want to know if it’s all right with you.”
“I don’t understand. Of course, it’s okay with me. I can’t wait to see him.”
She frowns. “Are you sure?”
I cozy up next to her and slide my arms around her waist. “As long as that call can wait until tomorrow morning.” I lean in and press my lips against hers, covering her mouth in a deep, penetrating kiss. I explore her velvety tongue and breathe in her perfume, sweat, and skin. My cheek nuzzles her brow, feeling her perspiration wet on my face.
Her breathing is heavy, like quiet panting. “The call can wait.”
I’m still confused about the plan, the murders at Claremont, and their reluctance to tell me what my role might be. One thing, however, isn’t confusing: my feelings for Dixie.
Primal thoughts enter my mind, calling me, pushing me closer. I kiss her cheek and move my hands across her body. She sighs, running her tongue over my ear. The sweet scent of her sex is more than I can stand.
I search for the zipper tab of her jeans, but her hand covers mine, stopping me in mid-zip.
“What’s the matter?”
The gleam in her eye tells me it’s a foolish question. “Is it okay if we continue this in my old bedroom?
She holds out her hand. “This way, Mr. Steel, and don’t you dare forget where you left off. Promise?” All at once, she furrows her brow. “You have done this before, haven’t you?”
The question takes me off guard. “No. Why, am I doing something wrong?”
She answers me with a kiss. “Follow me,” she says, leading me down the hallway.
Mating in the canine world is nothing more than a physical act, pure and simple. There’s no emotion involved, and even less thought. Pheromones are a powerful force, attracting a mate and ensuring the survival of the species. The act itself takes no more than a minute or so, if that, and when it’s over, it’s over. No “call you later,” no breakfast in bed, and definitely no commitment.
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