Lucy Callahan will do anything to rescue her sister from a cult, even marry a werewolf she’s just met. But the werewolves are working undercover for the government, and Lucy fears a confrontation between the agents and the cult could be deadly.
Stoker Smith longs to be the best thing that ever happened to his human mate. He wants to take her home, start their family, and compose his music. And although his pack’s treaty with the government says he doesn’t have to work undercover now that he’s mated, he promised Lucy he’d get her sister out of the cult’s heavily armed compound. Lucy’s sister is now family and to a werewolf, family is everything.
But Operation Jericho quickly turns ugly, thrusting Lucy into the middle of her worst nightmare, where she must choose: her sister or her husband.
The keyboard player, in his enormous black hat and flowing pastel paisley shirt, brought up the rear of the line. He walked slowly, checking out the women from the safety of the shadow his hat cast over his face. He paused every so often, as if examining the goods on display. When he reached Lucy, he stopped.
Although she couldn’t see his eyes, she felt his gaze, as if he peered straight through to her soul. He leaned closer, stealing what little air space remained. Heart sprinting and lungs compressing, she wrestled the panic-attack. This wasn’t the time for her claustrophobia to launch itself. She huddled closer to the wall, trying to escape his hovering presence, trying not to be too obvious as she gasped for breath.
“What’s your name?” he asked in a gruff voice.
The women around her fell silent.
Blood pounded in her ears. She couldn’t have heard him correctly. Oversized stud-muffins never paid attention to her.
But he took her hand and brought it to his mouth. His lips were soft, his breath hot. Shivers sprinted on her spine. He touched his tongue to the center of her palm, and her bones melted like icicles in a rainforest.
This couldn’t be happening, not to her. First Bill Danby declared he planned to marry her, and now this semi-famous musician was hitting on her.
MJ Compton grew up near Cardiff, New York, a place best known for its giant, which turned out to be a fiction so incredible, PT Barnum himself borrowed it. That’s a tough act to follow, but MJ tried—by composing her own stories.
Although her 30-year career in local television included such highlights as being bitten by a lion, preempting a US President for a college basketball game, giving a three-time world champion boxer a few black eyes, a mention in the Drudge Report, and meeting her husband, MJ’s urge to create her own stories never went away.
MJ still lives in upstate New York with her husband. She’s a member of Romance Writers of America and Central New York Romance Writers. Music and cooking are two of her passions, and she enjoys baseball and college basketball, but she’s primarily focused on wine . . . and writing.
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/MJ-Compton/e/B00J9DFFIG/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1