Blurb:
Shy socialite Breanna is
used to being overlooked, minimized, and ignored. She’s grown up in the
suffocating household of her old-money parents and done her best to please
them. Even her musical talent failed to do that, so she agreed to marry a man
of their choosing in a last desperate bid to win their approval. Just weeks
before the wedding, she runs away, knowing she can’t marry someone she doesn’t
love. As she flees to her friend in Canada, she wrecks her car in the
mountains. Rafe, the man who rescues her, is a bear-shifter wintering in his
cabin. Snowed in together, the passion flares between them, and he soon
realizes she is his mate. To keep him, Breanna will have to accept all of
him—and stand up for her right to make her own decisions.
Steamy
Excerpt:
Slowly, she plodded through the snow until she
came around the side of the cabin and froze. The sight that greeted her made
her gasp softly. He stood in front of her in profile, stripped down to nothing
but jeans, snow boots, and work gloves. The sheen of sweat made his bronzed
skin glimmer even without much sunlight filtering through the overcast sky.
Every muscle was exquisitely detailed and so perfect that any artist would have
wept with gratitude to be able to sculpt or paint him.
She longed to be able to kiss him or run her
fingers over his smooth expanse of flesh. Her panties were soaking wet in no
time, and she was embarrassed both by her arousal and her inability to look
away.
Suddenly, he froze, lifting his head. In a
peculiar fashion, he drew in a deep breath before his head turned and his gaze
locked directly onto her. She shivered under the force of the intense
expression. Was she imagining that dark hunger in his eyes? She didn’t think
so, but she was too timid to approach him to find out. Instead, she stayed
where she was and nervously called out, “I just wanted to make sure you’re
okay. You’ve been gone a while.”
“I’m fine.” He swung the heavy maul and wedged it
into the large stump he used for chopping. The lithe motion made her gasp, and
a new wave of desire flooded through her. She’d never seen anything so
magnificent in her life as this man doing something so simple as cutting wood.
Breanna realized she was holding her breath as it left her in a ragged
exhalation when he turned to walk toward her.
There was purposefulness in his posture, and the
way he held himself revealed determination and perhaps something else—something
a little feral or wild. A tinge of fear made her spine tingle, but that was
obliterated when he reached her, his hands fastening around her arms as he
pulled her close.
Before she had a chance to question his actions,
or ask what he was doing, his mouth was over hers. He didn’t kiss gently or
sweetly. He marked and branded, kissing her thoroughly and deeply, as though
determined to memorize every bit of her mouth.
After a second’s hesitation, passion she had never
known spread through her, and she was eagerly returning his kisses with the
same intensity. She was feeling rather wild herself, and she shoved back the
voice of reason trying to admonish her behavior. It sounded too much like
Estelle Dawson, and she was in no mood to have her mother ruin this experience.
Breanna lost track of how long they stood in the
snow, mouths devouring each other. At some point, he backed her against the
wall of the cabin, and she was vaguely aware of the rustic logs pressing
against her back through the fabric of her coat and his flannel shirt. It was a
minor discomfort, and she was easily able to block it out when his hands roamed
over her body.
Author Bio:
Kit
lives in Idaho with her husband and two sons. She enjoys writing several genres
and subgenres, but almost everything she writes has a strong romantic element.
A fan of post-apocalyptic, zombie, and dystopian books, she prefers to read or
view such stories from the comfort of her living room and never, ever in
person.
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