Silent Wings & Werewolves

Winged-Shifter Vera Sowy spends her days exploring the vast mountains of her homeland and researching fairy plants. She enjoys her idyllic life and could go on forever if not for the realization that there is trouble brewing with her father's business. She knows by the way he is staunchly avoiding talking about it to her, so she wheedles the truth from his manager, Beau, a snake shifter who had been working with him for as long as she remembers and is not so subtly in love with her. Or at least, he is in the idea of making her his wife.

She finds out from Beau that not only is the family business in trouble, they run the risk of going bankrupt, losing everything they own including their house.

Beau claims it's inevitable, but she is adamant to find a way. In one last ditch effort to save the business, her father books them a a room in the world famous Red Dragon, where they manufacture a chance encounter with Alpha Werewolf and business tycoon James Lycos. The dashing man has the power to bring their business back from the brink of destruction, if they could only convince him that it is in his best interest to do so.

James may not be interested in absorbing their business, but he is definitely interested in Vera…

Vera soon finds herself embroiled in more trouble than she is prepared to handle. The numbers in her father's business isn't adding up and Beau's sudden appearance and hostile behavior only confuses her more. Is he merely jealous of another's man attention towards her, or is it something more?

~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~

She was conscious that he had bent his head towards her and she lifted her head to meet his. There were still signs of tiredness and lack of sleep etched in his features, but the smoldering intensity of his eyes shallowed out her breathing. He closed the last few inches between them to claim her curving mouth while his hands slid down her back to enfold her in his arms, wings and all.

She wasn't strong enough to trust her own desires in that moment. It was easier, really, to follow his direction, letting him pull her in, catching herself by wrapping her arms around his neck and tilt her head back so he can kiss her.

It began as just lip to lip kisses, but while still being gradual, the build up to widely parted mouths and the sliding, wet stroking of their tongues came quickly. She missed this, she realized. Just two days without seeing him and she needed him as if she needed to feel the breeze of wind on her wings. His legs brushed between hers and she let out a soft gasp that allowed him to deepen the kiss. She wanted so badly to move against him, to press their bodies together until there was not an inch of skin between them. The mere thoughts of such intimate touches were enough to make her dizzy.

“Please,” she whimpered, the ache of passion knotting her insides. Its sudden presence shook her. The stubble of his beard was pleasantly rough against her sensitive skin. She felt herself slipping again into that mindless oblivion of sensation, pleasure singing on her skin as he deepened the kiss.

This time, he was the one to push her away. She tried to push herself back against him and press their lips back together, but his grip on her was firm. Her palms pressed against his chest. Beneath them, she could feel the thudding of his heartbeat, its tempo as erratic as her own.

“Why,” she started, only for her own question to be answered when she heard from down the road, the sound of children laughing.

“We really should stop doing this in public,” he teased, taking her hand and leading her back towards the hotel.