Hot shapeshifters...
battles,....
magic...
love
I have had the pleasure of reading
The Ulfric's Mate and its sequels in eBook format. I am beyond excited that Leona Bushman's
The Ulfric's Mate is being released in print. Now I can hope for an autographed copy at a future book signing. I'll be in that line somewhere and loving it!
If you haven't read it, I'm about to give you a taste of wicked that will leave you wanting more. The release is scheduled for
July 18 and between now and then you will hear more about it on this blog.
Read on: (warning this scene contains violent elements)
Secretly,
Roxy had always admired, even as she hated Heather. She was smart, strong,
brave, and picked her battles. Part of the reason Roxy had stolen her mate was
to prove she could. Same with killing him. She had wanted to establish early
who was in charge. Heather had more of a following to back her challenge if the
pack began to openly question Roxy's authority.
She let
out a low laugh aimed at Heather, and gratification rolled through her when the
healer backed up a step. "Our ancestors were exactly like me and would've
done this years ago against a pack like the Wahpawhats. They don't deserve to
be called weres when they adopt so many of the human ways. Many weren't happy
with the way things were long before our ancestors had the courage to split from
the other packs."
"We're
part human. What does it hurt?" Heather argued hotly.
"Enough!
Boris will escort you to your home office where you will give him the serum you
have ready. Now." She waited until they had left, stripped off her
clothing, and folded it on the chair. No need to ruin her favorite jeans.
She
shifted, going out the back to avoid being seen, and ran through the still
forest, the trees towering over her in a canopy of needles. The area nearest
their village was quiet. All wildlife had learned to give the area a wide
berth. The smell of so many predators in the vicinity deterred most newcomers,
and the pack had long ago cleared the immediate area surrounding the lodge of
edible game. She sniffed the chilly air searching for likely prey.
There.
She caught the scent of deer. Doe if I'm not mistaken. Maybe I'll get lucky and
be able to eat the fawn as well. She bounded toward the scent. Power rippled
through her. She could not imagine being anything but a were.
As she
neared her destination, she slowed, experience telling her the doe was in the
meadow. She prowled low, keeping to the shadows of the towering evergreens and
the thick underbrush.
Snap.
She
froze and watched the doe she wanted to devour. It looked straight at the clump
of bushes where Roxy hid. The deer faced the area the sound had come from for a
moment before grazing again, content in her safety.
Roxy
stayed still for what felt like an eternity to her killing impulse. She slinked
forward, being more careful of the fallen dried leaves scattered on the forest
floor.
She
reached the edge of the clearing and looked around. There were other does with
their late fawns. None of the young brand-new, probably aged about six months.
Although not newborns, they were still considerably smaller and slower than
their mothers. She planned her attack.
Bunching
her muscles, she sprang into the clearing, each sprint faster than the last.
She was four leaps into the clearing before the first doe startled in fear and
ran. The doe she had chosen jerked its head around and looked Roxy in the eyes.
The fear
coming off the deer was strong; Roxy's saliva glands began to work furiously.
The hunter zeroed in now, ignoring the other tempting morsels fleeing the
clearing. Only this doe and this fawn held her attention.
The deer
and its offspring turned and fled, up into the hills, heading for the far tree
line. The beast within Roxy roared in challenge and victory. A predatory howl
left her mouth, and more of her kind answered it. They recognized their leader
and the howl of the hunt.
The
chase went on. With each leap, the dark wolf gained ground. The deer tried a
quick zigzag move, maybe to take the attention away from the fawn, but the
younger deer followed its parent.
Roxy
took a flying leap to the deer's neck and clamped down hard with her jaw,
savoring the bloody gush that flowed down her throat. With a quick toss of her
head, she snapped the wounded neck and let the doe drop.
The
coppery taste still lingered in her mouth as she chased down the fawn. The best
meat. She would take the doe home for the rest of the pack. It kept the
grumbling down. But the fawn was hers.
In two
quick bounds, she was on the fawn and ripped the head off. Spitting it out, she
stood over the fresh kill, one paw holding it still while she tore jagged
strips of tender flesh off the body. It was good to be the alpha.
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Stop back next week for more about The Ulfric's Mate!
