Book Description:
When a one-night stand feels like so much more…
Mountain lion shifter Laura Vidal has been given two choices: leave the
territory to find a mate, or become a guardian of the pride. Unwilling to leave
the only home she’s ever known, Laura chooses the rigorous and bruising
guardian training. Honestly, she’s glad for the training because it keeps her
too busy to see Dristan, the guy who rocked her world during an amazing
one-night stand.
Dristan Rhees can’t forget the girl who stole his heart after a single
night of unbridled passion. When she won’t give him the time of day, though, he
vows to move on. Maybe he could focus on growing his small business and living
a quiet life, if not for the vampires that invade their territory. With the vampires
threatening their pride, Dristan and Laura are forced to work together, and
they must confront the desire that still threatens to consume them.
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Excerpt
The bar top was warm beneath Dristan’s forearms as he hunched over it, trying to ignore the humans around them. He didn’t know why he’d let his brother talk him into going out—he not only hated going out in the snow, but lately he hadn’t felt very social. If he wanted to drink with his brother, they didn’t have to go any farther than the fridge in their apartment. But Frasier had some messed-up notion that Dristan needed to “get off his sad stick and go someplace fun.”
Thus, here they were at Hart’s. It used to be an old farmhouse, but the lower level had been opened up into a large room, booths added along the sides, pool tables in the center. There was an arcade upstairs, along with a few more pool tables, but tonight Dristan didn’t want to stray too far from the bar.
He felt like he was living in one of those country songs his buddy Rafe liked to listen to so much. Cold Montana winter, brooding man at a bar, trying to forget the girl who got away.
“You ever feel like you’re living in a song, Fraze?” he asked his brother.
“Only when I’m feeling melodramatic and self-pitying and generally no fun to be around,” Frasier said.
“Asshole.”
“I’m rubber, you’re glue,” Frasier quoted in a sing-song voice. “Whatever you say bounces off me and goes back to you. Go get laid or something. You haven’t been the same since—”
“I know.” Since he and Laura had enjoyed a beautiful, perfect night in each other’s arms…and then she’d pretended it had never happened. For almost a year. It hadn’t been fun watching her go on with her life as if Dristan didn’t exist. He took a drink from his pint glass. “Why do you always think sex is the answer to life’s problems?”
“If you don’t start having fun on your own, I’m going to have to take drastic measures,” Frasier said. “There’s a blonde in the corner, sexy red dress. Or no, that cute little brunette in the silver halter top. She can’t take her eyes off you.”
Dristan didn’t even bother looking in either woman’s direction. “If she’s in a halter top, she’s a damn fool. It’s too cold for that kind of nonsense.”
“I’m no fool,” a familiar voice said from behind him.
Shit. Frasier had played him. “Laura?”
She shimmied around him and propped herself on the stool between him and Frasier. Her brown hair shone in a straight fall down her back, and her green eyes appraised him coolly. “Rafe, Mateo, and Justine are on their way. What game are we playing tonight? Take a drink every time a woman looks at Dristan?”
Was she teasing him on purpose? It was the same game they’d played the last time all of them had come to Hart’s—the same night that he and Laura had spent together afterward.
The bar top was warm beneath Dristan’s forearms as he hunched over it, trying to ignore the humans around them. He didn’t know why he’d let his brother talk him into going out—he not only hated going out in the snow, but lately he hadn’t felt very social. If he wanted to drink with his brother, they didn’t have to go any farther than the fridge in their apartment. But Frasier had some messed-up notion that Dristan needed to “get off his sad stick and go someplace fun.”
Thus, here they were at Hart’s. It used to be an old farmhouse, but the lower level had been opened up into a large room, booths added along the sides, pool tables in the center. There was an arcade upstairs, along with a few more pool tables, but tonight Dristan didn’t want to stray too far from the bar.
He felt like he was living in one of those country songs his buddy Rafe liked to listen to so much. Cold Montana winter, brooding man at a bar, trying to forget the girl who got away.
“You ever feel like you’re living in a song, Fraze?” he asked his brother.
“Only when I’m feeling melodramatic and self-pitying and generally no fun to be around,” Frasier said.
“Asshole.”
“I’m rubber, you’re glue,” Frasier quoted in a sing-song voice. “Whatever you say bounces off me and goes back to you. Go get laid or something. You haven’t been the same since—”
“I know.” Since he and Laura had enjoyed a beautiful, perfect night in each other’s arms…and then she’d pretended it had never happened. For almost a year. It hadn’t been fun watching her go on with her life as if Dristan didn’t exist. He took a drink from his pint glass. “Why do you always think sex is the answer to life’s problems?”
“If you don’t start having fun on your own, I’m going to have to take drastic measures,” Frasier said. “There’s a blonde in the corner, sexy red dress. Or no, that cute little brunette in the silver halter top. She can’t take her eyes off you.”
Dristan didn’t even bother looking in either woman’s direction. “If she’s in a halter top, she’s a damn fool. It’s too cold for that kind of nonsense.”
“I’m no fool,” a familiar voice said from behind him.
Shit. Frasier had played him. “Laura?”
She shimmied around him and propped herself on the stool between him and Frasier. Her brown hair shone in a straight fall down her back, and her green eyes appraised him coolly. “Rafe, Mateo, and Justine are on their way. What game are we playing tonight? Take a drink every time a woman looks at Dristan?”
Was she teasing him on purpose? It was the same game they’d played the last time all of them had come to Hart’s—the same night that he and Laura had spent together afterward.
Liza got her start in romance by sneak-reading her
grandma’s paperbacks. Years later, she tried her own hand as a ghostwriter of
romance and it wasn’t long before she started developing her own series. Now
she divides her time between freelance editing, ghostwriting, and mountain lion
shifters with fierce and savage hearts.
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