Shaun's best friend had proven Weres existed, so why not Vampires? That's Shaun's reason for wandering a cemetery in the middle of the night, and she's sticking to it -- no matter how many things go bump in the night. A girl has to do what a girl has to do to prove she's right.
As for Rob, he's the big bad wolf...err, cat...here to scare Little Gothic Riding Hood right out of her cherry-red shit-kickers and teach her a lesson about being a sticky beak. Oh the things a Pack Alpha has to do to keep pretty, pert little noses out of his business.
Jakov Pieter's just the token Vamp that Rob dragged along for atmosphere. After all, what's not fun about hanging upside down from a tree? The things a Vamp does to humor his friends...pity humoring's not all he wants to do.
Throw in a three-hundred-year-old ghost, some 7th century mythology, lots of blue sparkles, and a cryptic prophecy about a fated trio of mates, and you have all the fixings of a Greek Tragedy...or maybe it's a Romance. Capital R, double on the "man."
Which vamp where? This vamp here. And this witch and were.
Publisher's Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Anal play/intercourse, male/male sexual situations, m�nage (m/f/m), voyeurism.
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Loose Id, LLC
November 25, 2008
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Excerpt from Witch Vamp Were? by Anne Douglas
Hanging from a tree wasn't Jak's favorite pastime. Reminded him of way too many bad stories about vampires and bats, and a plethora of C-grade black-and-white movies. In truth, only great gymnastic skills, a head for heights, and pure stubbornness held him here, waiting for Rob's signal to come "flying" out of the tree as if turning from bat to man.
They'd lain in wait for Shaun, creeping around behind her, waiting for the perfect place to put Rob's plan into action. Jak hadn't yet met the girl, but was heartily amused by the way she niggled at Rob -- she gnawed at him like a determined terrier on an intruder's ankle. So when Rob had come up with this plan, he'd jumped on board for no other reason than to see what happened when Shaun found out about Rob's scheming.
From what he'd been told -- and he'd been told a lot by both an exasperated Rob and an indignant Pearl defending her friend -- Shaun wasn't likely to take Rob's little plot lying down.
A loud curse rang out from below, and as he watched, Shaun lost her balance and fell backward off the grave marker, her arms windmilling as she attempted to stay upright. She hit the ground with a thump and an oof of breath that made him wince. "Ouch. That had to hurt."
A white, human-sized haze hung before the headstone before passing through it to hover over Shaun, and while it didn't look malicious, Jak knew that more than Vamps and Weres existed in the world, some of it not at all benign despite the way it looked.
Shaun Ingelstead was in for a big night -- she was about to have all her theories proven correct, because this Vamp was riding to her rescue.
Jak relaxed his legs and flipped in midair, settling quietly on his feet with a certain amount of pride at sticking his landing. Take that, Batman, and I don't need no stinking gadgets!
With the long, black coat he'd worn to get into character, and the gray hoodie underneath to cover his dark blond hair, he blended into the night all too easily. Yet the apparition looked up and directly at him despite the shelter the tree still offered him. So much for stealth.
Not quite close enough to make out the barely opaque features, he didn't recognize the ghost, but something about the style of dress and the ghost's carriage seemed familiar.
"Jak Pieter, stop skulking about and come out from underneath that tree." That imperious tone was unmistakable.
"Gertie?" Surely not? "Gertruda Ingelsdottir?" Jak shook his head, attempting to make sense of hearing the voice of a woman who had been dead for roughly three hundred years. Jak closed his eyes as names, faces, and centuries-old memories came crashing in. A groan slipped from him as everything coalesced into a new picture. "Oh, Jesus, Gertie. Shaun's your granddaughter?"
"And well you should have known it, young man!" The ghost's brow rose in a way that made him as uncomfortable as it had three centuries before. How was he to know somewhere along the line Shaun's family had anglicized their name, let alone that Ingelsdottir women had convinced their men to take their surname?
Gertie's apparition turned to the left, and Jak caught a slight movement from the corner of his eye as Rob moved away from the tree trunk that had hidden him.
"And you, young man -- Huntingdawn Pack Alpha, I believe. What do you have to say for yourself?"
Rob stepped out from the deep, concealing shadows of the tree limbs and moved until he stood shoulder to shoulder with Jak. "Is that a ghost?" Rob showed not one iota of fear in the face of the unexplained -- he was Alpha for a damn good reason -- and his question was more of a statement that really didn't warrant confirmation.
"Rob Deidrickson, I'd like to introduce you to Gertruda Ingelsdottir. Shaun's grandmother a number of times removed and the woman who picked me up off the streets in 1702 and took me into her home." Warmth slipped into his heart at seeing her again. "God, Gertie, I'd give anything to wrap you up in a big hug right about now."
Gertie's lips held a small, sad smile, and Jak felt a tingle along his skin as her ghostly fingers passed over his cheek. "And I you, Jakov Pieter, and I you. If I could have, I would have come back when you were turned. I felt your pain across the veil, but I could not return. Not until one of my blood asked for me."
There was a coughed "ahem." "Down here, Lion-O and his Thundercat sidekick. I believe that would be me."
As two hunky male faces and one female apparition turned their attentions downward, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Trust Rob Deidrickson to be there to witness her klutzy moment, and to bring a friend to the party, too. How dare he!
Not sure whether she should be steaming furious at Rob and his wingman, or if she should run away screaming because holy-crap-on-a-stick-she'd-just-raised-a-real-ghost, she went with the familiar. Taunting Rob.
"Can someone give me a hand?" Her shoelace had caught in the fretwork of her grandma's headstone when she'd fallen, leaving her strung up with little leverage to free herself. Not, at least, without some very embarrassing maneuvering.
"You take the lower half, I'll take the top." Rob's low drawl betrayed his humor at the situation he found her in and her stubborn gene kicked in at the sound of the subtle laughter.
"On second thought, I wouldn't want you to break a claw or anything. I'll do it myself." Shaun twisted her free leg around so her foot was on the ground and did her best to make like a pretzel and perform the impossible feat of standing. As she fought against the stupid piece of cord, Rob and his much-too-handsome-for-his-own-good friend stood off to the side with big stupid grins on their faces. Damn them! She paused in her struggles and did her best to glare the pair of them down. "You really should wipe that smile off your face, Rob; you look like a big, dumb dog."
Rob hissed at the insult, and though it might have just been a figment of her imagination, she was certain the hair on his head had just bristled like it would have in his feline form. She smirked back, happy with how well her hit had landed. She darted a quick glance to the side to see if she'd pissed off Rob's friend as well, but her gaze caught, trapped on the very sharp and pointy-toothed, superstar-sized smile of the stranger. As Rob hissed and spat like an annoyed cat, the man's eyes flicked back and forth between her and Rob, his smile only growing larger as Rob's indignation and frustration increased.
The stranger's smile did disturbing things to her insides. A warm sensation spread through her belly, and her breasts tingled, peaked, as the man -- Jak, her grandma had called him -- stared at her. When she didn't look away, his smile changed, lost its humor, and became heated and sexy. His eyes narrowed, went hard and soft all at the same time, and he shifted, spreading his legs, planting his feet firmly as if he meant to jump her.