Sheriff Scott Dupree's got more problems than he can handle. He's alpha of his small werewolf pack and coming up for re-election as sheriff in a year. On top of this, his mother is casting love spells to find Scott a mate. It's all Scott can do to keep the town and pack under control, let alone his urges to mate.
Ted Canedo is openly gay, a disgraced ex-cop from New Orleans. His patrol partner was killed on duty and Ted took the blame for taking protection money from the store owner to save his partner's wife and kids grief. No one knew Ted was in love with his partner, not even his partner. Having him die in Ted's arms killed something inside Ted too.
When the moon is full and Scott's momma works her magic, Ted's erotic dreams and his work as a PI bring him to St. Jerome and sexy, straight Scott. Scott's stunned to learn his wolf is gay and wants to mate with Ted. Ted refuses to become involved with a straight man, much less a werewolf, terrified to risk his heart again.
There are no customer reviews available at this time. Would you like to write a review?
Loose Id, LLC
October 03, 2011
Number of Print Pages*
Adobe DRM EPUB
* Number of eBook pages may differ. Click here for more information.
Excerpt from Bayou's End by Lynn Lorenz
Ted Canedo knew it was a dream. In fact, it was the same dream he'd had for the last four months. He was driving down a smooth two-lane blacktop in the country, a place he'd never been before except in this dream. He passed a now familiar huge oak tree, Spanish moss hanging from its thick, undulating branches.
Very picturesque, very south Louisiana.
Beyond the tree, a gravel road. He turned off, bumping and jarring his way down it. Passing a metal sign nailed to a wire and post fence, he strained to read it. Just like the times before, it went by in a blur.
Ted sighed and drove on. He came to a wooden bridge, slowed, and took it carefully. The boards shuddered under the weight of his SUV, but he knew it would hold. Knew he would be home soon.
That's not right.
Home was a small second-floor apartment in the heart of New Orleans' French Quarter.
He pulled in front of the raised wooden house and parked. Like most homes along the bayous and waterways, it stood on stilt legs, high enough to stay out of the occasional floodwater. A set of stairs zigzagged up the front, leading to a screened porch.
He climbed the stairs and opened the screen door, its musical creak sounding both familiar and new. He pushed through the front door and entered the house as if he'd always lived there. The surroundings blurred, and his vision focused on a door across the room, pulling him toward whatever lay behind it.
Without him touching it, the door opened, and he passed through into a bedroom, gliding as if he floated. Covered in one of those white cotton chenille spreads from his childhood, a large bed with a high headboard stood against the far wall.
He stopped in front of a dresser, its top covered with an old lace antimacassar; silver stars danced over the lace as if they'd fallen from the night sky to land there. Ted glanced up into the mirror.