Thanks for having me here on your blog today! I’m really excited to be sharing my latest release, COLD NIGHT MOON – book five in my Urban Wolf Series. This is a series that’s really so close to my heart for a lot of reasons, and it’s great to be back in Ayla and Shannon’s world. I’ve been with these characters for six years now, and I like to think that each installment, whether it’s a short story like this or a full-length novel, has expanded the world and see my werewolf ladies grow. In COLD NIGHT MOON, I get to play with some British folklore (always fun!) and give Ayla and Shannon a romantic break in the woods…well, a sort of romantic break, anyway. I hope you’ll love it!
“We’re going home,” I said, hoping my voice didn’t sound as shaky as I thought it did.
“No! Can’t you hear her! It’s so beautiful, Ayla, I have to see… I have to find her…” She slapped uselessly at my arms.
I had to change position. I couldn’t really see past her head and if she started kicking, she could take out my knees with those heavy hiking boots. But I didn’t want to let her go to try and put her in a better hold. With a groan, I sort of rolled her in my arms so we were face to face. Her expression was one of angry hunger, nothing like the Shannon I knew. She slapped me, her gloves stinging my cheek.
“Let me go!”
I growled and hauled her over my shoulder. She kneed me in the stomach and pummeled my back, shouting now.
“Put me down! I have to see her!”
“There’s nobody there!” I cried, frustration boiling over into anger of my own. “Please, Shannon—”
She kneed me again, knocking the breathe from me, and I stumbled. Her weight overbalanced me, pitching us both into the snow, with Shannon landing on top of me. While I wheezed for air, she tried to scramble off me, but I grabbed her wrists and clung on. The sheer panic on her face scared me. It was the intense, mindless panic of an animal fleeing a wildfire, a human watching a friend die. You couldn’t reason with that, couldn’t snap someone out of it.
She twisted and thrashed, trying to free herself, while snow soaked through my jeans and slid into my boots, sending chills through me. I was fighting the elements as well as Shannon, and whilst I could outfight Shannon if I wanted, I couldn’t hold off the cold forever.
I gritted my teeth. “I’m so sorry,” I said, and then I headbutted her.
About the Author
Naomi likes writing, perfume, fancy tea, and unfathomable monsters from the dark spaces between the stars, not necessarily in that order. She has been writing stories ever since she learned how to write, but is still trying to master the art of biography writing. When she’s not dealing with werewolves, demons, or sea monsters, she’s hanging out with her cat and probably watching a documentary about Bigfoot. If the cat isn’t available, she’s with her fiancé watching cookery shows and silently plotting her next book.
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