Sins of a Wolf -- Available Now! On sale February 22, 2016.
The heat building between them is ready to erupt, threatening to shatter the wall around a soldier’sheart.
Former Green Beret, Zackary “Sin” Sinclair has a secret nipping at his heels. And he’ll do anything—go anywhere—to keep that info locked down tight. Including playing along with the news that he’s the father of his best friend’s little sister’s baby. But there’s no way in hell that’s possible since he hasn’t touched a woman in years. That, and his best friend has no idea Sin’s been hiding the fact he’s gay since they were teenagers.
KinKaid Wolf Pack Enforcer,Aydin Michaels is his cousin’snew pet project. If he doesn’t sober up and fall in line, he’ll be kissing his new career goodbye, and more than likely, packing up to head back east. The last thing he needs is a smokin’ hot human male with eyes that turn him inside out trying to play his hero.
When a bar fight goes wrong and Sin ends up bitten, Aydin is charged with tracking him down—before he shifts—and educating him about those in the world who aren’t quite human. Rule number one: in order to survive, shifters stick together.Butconvincing the hardheaded soldier on the run to stay put, preferably with him, is easier said than done.For Sin, putting down roots means paying a price. He either betrays a friend and risks losing the only family he’s ever known, or walk away from the man who’s claimed a piece of his soul.
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(intended for 18 years or older)
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Forrest Gump had it all wrong.
Life wasn’t like a box of chocolates.
It was a damn shot of tequila.
You know the shit’s going to burn, but you can’t keep from pouring it down your throat. Or from giving it every fucking thing and hoping like hell after the pain is gone, it will have all been worth it.
Zackery Sinclair, or "Sin" as his former Green Beret buddies used to call him, tossed back another dose of the alcohol. Too bad in his case, the bitch—life, his world for the most part—hadn’t stepped up and shown him a damn thing except her ugly side.
Much like the current dive he’d rolled up to on his bike.
Sin surveyed the dimly lit room from his stool at the far end of the well-worn oak slab that faced the front door. Chain Drive consisted of a few marred tables and chairs along with a pool table in the back. The biker bar fit the bill for what he’d been looking for: all the liquor he could swallow in as unappealing and remote a place as possible—the northwest Cascade Mountains. A few thousand miles away from the upstate of South Carolina.
A loud crack sounded from the direction of the pool table. Sin watched over the rim of his shot glass as three men hovered over the game. Even from his vantage point, the thinning white spots in the green velvet telegraphed that the table had lost its virginal status many years ago. He could relate.
One of the men with shoulder-length, sandy blond hair, the strands tucked behind his ears, leaned over the edge of the wood. A smug grin tugged at the corners of a full, sensual mouth, exposing a perfect set of straight, white teeth. God, that mouth. The firm, carnal curves would make a grown man sob and suddenly find religion, if only for a moment, to feel the smooth glide of it sliding over his dick.
Sin cursed under his breath at the wicked thoughts running wild through his mind of all the things he could imagine doing to and with the blond. His cock swelled, surprising him with his body’s sudden, heated response to the other guy. When was the last time that had happened? He repositioned himself on the hard bar stool to allow more room behind his zipper.
The blond player pulled back on his stick, then slid it forward. Smooth and easy, like an artist painting a precise brush stroke onto the canvas. The way he handled the cue, Sin couldn’t help but wonder what other moves the guy had perfected. His growing erection twitched at the thought. The chalked end connected with the white cue ball, propelling it forward into a green one with a sharp clink.
His target fell into a waiting slot as the cue ricocheted off, colliding with a third ball, sinking that one as well into the opposite corner pocket. Damn. The guy had played the game a time or two. And based on the expression of the other men around him, that hadn’t been what they’d expected.
“Sorry, fellas,” the pool shark said, swiping the bills from the table and stuffing them in the pocket of his jeans. “Guess it’s just my lucky day.” The blond grinned.
“You played us for fools, Aydin Michaels,” the darker haired man barked at the blond. Slamming his stick onto the worn table, the pissed off biker bared his teeth and stalked toward the other guy.
Fuck. This was going to get ugly.
“Come on, Derrick,” the shark called Aydin drawled and lifted his hands, palms open. “You know I wouldn’t do that.”
“We don’t really know you at all, do we?” another man, taller, broader and with long dark hair bound at his nape added, closing in on him from the rear. “Except that you’re a damn faggot.”
The insult rolled down Sin’s spine like a hot wave of lava, stiffening his back and tightening his gut. Now why did they have to go and start with the name calling? He wasn’t anywhere near ready to announce to the world his sexual orientation. Hell, he still struggled with the idea himself that he preferred a man in his bed more than a woman. But he wasn’t about to sit there and allow someone to be bullied or have the shit beat out of him by some assholes because he was gay.
Sin’s fingers curled against the bar’s wooden surface. All he’d wanted was a quiet place to drown in a few shots. He motioned to the bartender and pointed to his glass. “One more.”
The tall, muscular barkeep with a mass of wavy, dark blond hair that looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, poured him a dose of liquid gold. Sin quickly tossed the alcohol back at the same moment Aydin pivoted on his heels and faced the guy with the filthy mouth.
“What did you call me?” Aydin sneered.
“I called you a damn faggot,” the other man spat. “But what else should I expect, considering what pack you belong to.”
Pack? Sin frowned. Now the guy had insulted the blond’s entire family, referring to them as a group of animals. Damn, that was cold.
“Yeah,” the first guy slurred. “Must be something in the fucking water on your land screwing with your damn brains.”
Aydin shook his head as if he couldn’t believe the stupid crap spilling out their mouths. “Idiots,” he muttered, then swung. His fist connected with the dark haired man’s jaw with a loud bone-to-bone crack.
And there it was—the first blow signaling the brawl had begun.
The larger man stumbled from the impact as the guy at Aydin’s back seized both of the blond’s arms. Aydin cursed and wrestled against the hold on his biceps.
Sin plopped his shot glass down onto the bar, shrugged off his leather jacket, and slid from his seat. Two against one was never fair in his playbook.