Two green headlights showed behind the bushes of the forest. She knew they belonged to a someone not a something. A vehicle couldn’t push into the terrain and the trees were too closely set. Her body was in a helpless state. The green eyes moved closer, out of the brush and into clear view. Her heart should have been pounding wildly; instead a faint bump erupted from her chest every several seconds, slowing with each moment she sat there, incapable of moving thump… babump… thump. Her death was finally happening and the green-eyed beast had come to finish the job the taloned beast hadn’t.
The green-eyed beast moved closer and she could see a bush of fur hanging from its mouth. It dropped the bush of fur into her lap. She could feel its little heart beat every bit as faint and weak as her own, but couldn’t move her head or arms to look at and touch it. The beast brought his nose to her face, sniffing her mouth, neck, and nuzzling its nose under her right armpit. Not with affection, more like double-checking something. At this close distance she could smell its breath, which carried the scent of flesh and iron; blood. She recognized the flavorful odor of blood. The creature was some type of large dog; possibly a wolf, but most likely a coyote. They were known to roam these woods. If her heart had been working it would have been beating a million miles a minute in fear. Instead it continued its weary battle thump… babump… thump…
The beast took a few steps backwards. Its body began contorting and twisting. Bones crunched in such a way that she could only imagine it caused the beast horrendous agony. Its snout shrunk to the size of a human nose, and hair that had covered the animal from head to toe drew back inside its pores. The claws that had extended from the tips of its paws disappeared inside human flesh. In front of her stood a dark, robust man. Had she been able to scream, she would have. Fear seized whatever was left of her heart.
He scrambled off his porch and through the woods, nearly tripping in the snow. Once he reached the tree line, he slowed and moved through the woods. Steam rising from the earth caught his attention and a woman, almost white as the snow and buck naked, stood before him. She was tiny, with breasts no larger than biscuits, and an oval face. Her blonde hair hung in curls around her shoulders and her eyes were a deep violet. The steam wasn’t rising from the snow, but from her.
He took a step towards the woman. “Are you real?” he asked, more to himself.
She answered, “I am. Come.” Her voice pulled him further towards her. He felt caught in the middle of reality and a dream.
“Pinch me,” he demanded.
She moved toward him, her heat making him sweat inside his coat and he felt his cock rise inside his pants. Gently, she touched his arm and pinched a small piece of his cheek between her fingers.
The warmth of her hands tingled against his flesh, sending waves of desire through his body and a feeling of his face on fire when she let go.
“Ouch,” he said.
She giggled. “You aren’t dreaming.”
A gun shot rang through the air and Jestin turned to see Hank standing a few feet away. “What are you doing out here?” he asked.
Jestin turned back towards the woman and she was gone. Vanished. “I was… I thought I saw something here in the woods.”
Three hours later, he finished dinner, took a bite off a piece of cornbread that went with the chili he’d made and stared blankly into the snow. The white flash of the animal he’d seen earlier high on his thought list. There wasn’t one white animal he could think of that lived in the woods, unless it was a wolf. It had to be a wolf, which meant there were more. Wolves weren’t singular animals but plural, they moved in packs.
A shotgun leaned against the log wall beside the door. He had protection if it was a wolf. He didn’t hunt, but could fire a bullet straight into the heart or head of anything. His dad had taught him since he was a boy, hoping to make him a hunter. Jestin didn’t have the heart. He was a softie who loved life. Again, the case with Trevor Bolling haunted him.
Drawing open the curtain in his room so the sun would shine bright in the morning and wake him early, he lay in bed, fighting his thoughts about work, and went to sleep.
His sleep burdened with his own guilt, he tossed and turned, finally waking. The light of the crescent moon filtering through the window, casting a glow. Fluffing the pillow beneath his head, he turned toward the open window, two violet eyes stared back at him.
If you want to know more about Talon and Tigress, here’s the book blitz, with another excerpt, and a Kindle Fire 7′ GIVEAWAY (US/CAN only)