One run in the woods wouldn't matter, or so thinks werewolf Stefanie Porter. Being cooped up in her apartment for months must have messed up her instincts, because her former pack almost catches her until a mysterious lone wolf jumps in to help Stefanie escape.
The cruel Alpha Wyatt not only stole her pack but refuses to give Stefanie her freedom. She can't hide in her apartment any longer or it will drive her crazy. She puts her trust in the lone wolf who can teach her some of his unusual urban survival tricks. James Roberts might be a bit geeky, but he's smart and looks hot when the argyle sweater comes off. His ridiculous ambition to become a superhero might be admirable if Wyatt couldn't rip him limb from limb.
With the pack scouring the city for her, Stefanie must convince James to teach her and control her own Alpha nature, or fight not only for her life, but his as well.
Christine Rains is a writer, blogger, and geek mom. She has four degrees which help nothing with motherhood, but make her a great Jeopardy player. When she's not writing or reading, she having adventures with her son or watching cheesy movies on Syfy Channel. She's a member of S.C.I.F.I. The 13th Floor series is her first self-published series. She has three novellas and sixteen short stories published.
And here is an excerpt from 1302 The Alpha
Close to an hour went by, and she found herself on the second floor running her fingers along the spines of used books. Subjects she'd never read like calculus and others she'd love to read like history and mythology.
“Need help finding anything?”
Stefanie shook her head before he even finished speaking. “No, thanks.”
She froze, the voice finally registering. It wasn't one she'd ever heard before, but somehow it seemed familiar. She turned slowly as if rotating on a pedestal.
The young man who had asked the question wasn't an employee. No tacky vest over a shirt with the collar up. He stood about three inches taller than her five foot seven and had a lean skateboarder's body. Sneakers and jeans and a fitted argyle sweater. Black rimmed glasses and dark brown hair that was styled to look mussed.
Pretty damn good-looking if you were into that whole hipster thing. Argyle. Really?
In one hand, with his index finger holding his place, he held a comic book. Some boys just never grew up.
“Are you sure?” His smile was teasing, but it twitched. His muscles were tense, not matching his relaxed stance.
Hearing his voice again, Stefanie cocked her head to the side and breathed in deeply. A hint of incense, Old Spice deodorant, fresh mint as if he'd just popped one into his mouth before speaking to her, and under it, the scent of male. More of a male than he looked with that sweater.
A second breath and she caught it. The woods.
But she couldn't smell wolf.
That wasn't right. Her instincts were never wrong. Stefanie stepped closer, nose near his neck. He started to move back, but she snatched his shirt. “Don't move.”
“Um, okay.” He stood still as she sniffed him and then cleared his throat. “May I ask your name before you decide to get any friendlier?”
Nothing. Absolutely nothing, but it was the wolf that had helped her. She tugged him farther back into the stacks where an overhead light had fizzled out. Only then did she let him go.
“How are you doing it?”
“What?” He blinked, and then tried another smile on her. “You mean how did I just get a gorgeous woman to pull me into a dark corner to be alone?”
“I don't play games, wolf.” Stefanie put her hands on her hips. Bigger wolves had cowered before her. Argyle would answer her questions whether he wanted to or not. If she could learn his trick, the pack would never find her. “Why can't I get your scent? Even last night, it was barely there.”
He wet his lips and adjusted his glasses. Looking down, he fingered the corner of his book for about ten seconds before lifting his head again. “You're much more forward than I'd have thought. I figured we'd talk a bit, maybe introduce ourselves, have a cup of coffee before we jumped into this.”
“We know who we are, and coffee only makes me aggressive. Tell me how you're doing it.”
“Aggressive?” He raised his brows and almost grinned, but she scowled at him and chased it away. “I'm James, by the way. And you, with the sharp nose, may I ask your name?”
“No.” Stefanie snapped. “So Jimmy, are you going to tell me or do I have to force you into submission?”
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I wish you the greatest success, Christine!