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On SALE $0.99<\/strong><\/p>\n Two excerpts from A Pack of His Own volume 1:<\/strong><\/p>\n Charlie laughed as lean, muscular arms pulled him close and tightened around his back. It was Luis. His nose had been right.<\/p>\n \u201cI was planning to see you here,\u201d Luis whispered in Spanish, his voice richer than the thrum of the best-played bass. \u201cBut I didn\u2019t think it would be so soon.\u201d<\/p>\n Charlie drank in Luis\u2019s scent, relishing how Luis held him. Then he pulled back slightly, though he was still safe in Luis\u2019s embrace. \u201cIt\u2019s good to see you.\u201d That was an understatement, and he was hard-pressed not to resume the kisses he\u2019d run from in March. He had no right to such a warm welcome, and for a breath his heart lodged in his throat.<\/p>\n Then another smell — a stench compared to Luis\u2019s heady aroma — invaded the library, and Charlie stepped away completely. He held up one finger. \u201cUn momento.\u201d<\/p>\n Luis retreated several paces, and Charlie blinked at the psychic vampire\u2019s discretion. Luis hadn\u2019t possessed anything close to circumspection or respect for duty when they\u2019d worked together in Tampa. From Tracker\u2019s Fate:<\/strong><\/p>\n Jeremy frowned as he put the first of the pans under the running water and squirted soap in. It would do no good to attempt inviting more information through silence; Ethan was an old hat at keeping things to himself. \u201cWhat is a haint anyway? Besides a chicken-fried Southern ghost?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe words ghost, zombie, half-vampire, and weird distant cousin of the wendigo can all apply to haints.\u201d Ethan slapped his palm down on the lid of one plastic container, producing a hollow click that strangely resembled the noise a handgun made when cocked.<\/p>\n Jeremy decided that probably had to do with the acoustics in the huge kitchen. \u201cThat is not helpful,\u201d he answered in a dry tone he hoped would make Ethan laugh.<\/p>\n The SearchLight tracker snickered; the tension in the room dropped. \u201cThankfully we went in with our eyes a little open to the possibilities, or\u2026\u201d Another lid clicked into place.<\/p>\n Jeremy scented the air, searching out Luis Delgado\u2019s unique aroma. He thought the psychic vampire was outside. Perhaps with Charlie. \u201cDid this haint bite you or stab you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBite. I fell on her from above before she could claim another victim. But she twisted under me like a snake. I saw her eyes just before she showed her fangs. As we were told, she was starving.\u201d Ethan approached the sink with slow, dragging steps. \u201cI had to kill her.\u201d<\/p>\n Jeremy considered the tense line of Ethan\u2019s shoulders. SearchLight trackers were, by definition, spies, stalkers, information gatherers, and more than occasional executioners. Not a single one had been pressed into service. \u201cDo you regret becoming a tracker?\u201d he asked as he squirted soap into the hot water. He began dumping dishes into the mix almost indiscriminately, ninety percent of his attention being for Ethan. I could almost be attracted to this quiet-speaking werewolf with so much fire in his soul. Almost, however, was the operative word. Ethan could laugh as well as any other wolf, but his reticence sometimes annoyed Jeremy.<\/p>\n The two of us would not make a good match, Jeremy told his lonely heart.<\/p>\n Ethan opened and closed a nearby drawer, his movements gentle and slow. \u201cI used to love it.\u201d He flipped a towel over his shoulder. \u201cDid your run help?\u201d<\/p>\n Jeremy scowled. \u201cYou\u2019re an ass.\u201d He faced Ethan, forgetting the dishes. \u201cHow long, exactly, were you going to wait before telling me you\u2019ve decided to follow my every movement?\u201d<\/p>\n Ethan nodded toward the faucet. \u201cMaybe you should turn that off.\u201d<\/p>\n Snarling, Jeremy did so. \u201cWell?\u201d he demanded, his anger increasing when he saw Ethan wasn\u2019t flinching. Not that I\u2019m trying to scare him, but he\u2019s a less dominant wolf. He should cower before me. Jeremy cursed, hating himself for wanting Ethan submissive to his will. He whirled back to the sink and plunged his hands into the nearly scalding water. He seized a pan and a sponge and tried to take out his building fury on something inanimate. \u201cYou are a tracker, but that doesn\u2019t give you the right to spy on me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLuis and I returned from Albion half an hour before dinner. Neither of us was in a position to hunt you.\u201d \u201cYou smell of Queen Anne\u2019s lace, a mix of wild grasses, and the exhaustion that comes from changing too quickly and too often from your human guise to that of the wolf.\u201d Ethan rinsed off the pan and set it in the drainer. He did this with exquisite care. \u201cPlease don\u2019t accuse me of treating a pack member like a rogue haint.\u201d<\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/kate-hill.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/03\/image17-198x300.jpg\")
From Hunter\u2019s Claim<\/strong>
\nA strong, well-remembered hand closed around Charlie\u2019s automatically outstretched right. Then the man before Charlie pushed that hand aside and grasped Charlie\u2019s left, white cane and all.<\/p>\n
\nCharlie went to the library doors, meaning to close them, but the werewolf he\u2019d smelled stood before him. He made the conscious switch to English, realizing he must be overwhelmed by Luis\u2019s presence if the change needed to be willed rather than instinctive. Or maybe I\u2019m intoxicated again. As he\u2019d been when he and Luis had tumbled into bed for a single, blissful hour. Maybe it wasn\u2019t the Lady Lavender drinks that got me drunk in March. It could\u2019ve been Luis.<\/p>\n
\nJeremy thudded the still soapy but degreased pan into the second sink for Ethan to rinse. \u201cThen how do you know I was running?\u201d<\/p>\n