Lindsay's Scribblings: Barrage: Alpha Me Not

Oh, Thursday. I love Thursday, because that means it's almost Friday. Today's blog features Alpha Me Not. Enjoy!

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Buy Links

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Alpha-Not-White-Wolf-ebook/dp/B0092V0P6M/

ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-alphamenot-924207-142.html

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/alpha-me-not-jianne-carlo/1112677944

Loose ID: http://www.loose-id.com/white-wolf-3-alpha-me-not.html Loose-Id

Blurb

Susie White wants no picket fences, no alpha, and no cubs. White wolf woman she may be, but no pack for her, no sireee. Alpha me not, that’s her motto. In all caps.

Mercenary and half-breed wolf Joe Huroq’s not looking for a mate. Stop and go screwing, that’s his motto. Hot and heavy between missions. Then he glimpses his new neighbor tanning nude and the situation explodes.

Literally. Susie’s house is consumed by fire. What’s Joe to do but offer Susie his hospitality?

Susie can’t resist the temptation of big, bad, mercenary, so she suggests a friends with benefits arrangement which he accepts with an amazing alacrity. The sex is frantic, hot, and frequent. Neither one can keep their hands off the other.

Then children go missing. The fire’s deemed arson. Bodies pile up. Susie refuses to accept Joe’s mate claim. Can he keep her safe when she won’t obey a single order?

Warning: This title is intended for readers over the age of 18 as it contains explicit sex scenes and/or situations and adult language, and may be considered offensive to some readers.

Excerpt:

By the time Susie appeared eleven minutes later, he had the table on the outside deck laid and had opened a couple of bottles of wine. His favorite new toy, an iPod, was anchored in the latest docking station and blasted the music and lyrics of “My Eyes Adored You” from the sideboard in the dining room.

“Wow an iPod—how cool.” She marched over to the sideboard. “I promised myself one with my first paycheck.”

He resisted the urge to tell her she’d have one first thing in the morning.

Instead he drank her in. She wore a dark blue swingy skirt with a ruffled border that skimmed her midcalf, a creamy poet shirt cut to drape below her buff shoulders, and a three-inch laced-in-the-front black leather belt. Her damp waist-length hair glistened as she twirled to face him. Her bare feet added a primordial edge to the wild, gypsy portrait.

“Nice outfit.”

“Thanks. Made a pit stop at a boutique by the college today.” She smoothed the cotton fabric.

“Food should arrive any minute. Come here, gypsy woman.” He crooked a finger. “Dance with me.”

“Dance?” She curled one foot on the other’s instep. “Trust me. Not a good idea.”

Joe shook his head. “All women love dancing.”

Her lips stretched into a thin line. “You’re staring at one who doesn’t.”

“What’s not to love? Come on. Humor me. I’ve been thinking about dancing cheek to cheek with you since the pool.”

“You saw me naked at the pool and thought of dancing?” She arched a brow. “Don’t believe that one for a nanosecond.”

He rolled his eyes, stalked across the room, and tugged her into his arms. She stiffened, back so rigid he could’ve sworn her vertebrae had fused in protest.

It hit him all at once. “You’ve never slow danced with a man, have you?”

She laced her fingers together and rested the side of her palms in the middle of his chest. “You’re a genius, you are. If you must know, there wasn’t a whole lot of time for anything as frivolous as dancing during high school and college.”

“Mine either.” He thumbed the dimple in her chin. “I don’t have a clear image of my mother. Not quite sure she even could identify my father. There’s only her name on my birth certificate. My gran-gran raised me. When I was sixteen, she died. From then to when I graduated high school I lived in a series of foster homes. Got to college on a football scholarship. Coach Tommy decided learning to ballroom dance would somehow improve our agility and reflexes. I had a great teacher.”

“You like it, don’t you?” Color rode her cheekbones, but she’d relaxed a tad, not so unpliant in his embrace anymore.

“Yep.”

The doorbell rang.

About the Author

My motto is simple: Alpha Me Please. While strong heroines, exotic locations, and cultural differences are my forte, I go weak in the knees for warriors of any type, rebels, SEAls, Vikings, and bad-ass mercenaries.

Send me a man with an attitude and I'll find the right woman to tame him. My writing career began in 2008, and since then I've been lucky enough to have over twenty books published. Most of my books are TOP PICKs and several have been nominated for and won awards and prizes.

Nothing makes my day more than an email from someone who’s read one of my books. So far, I've received emails from almost every continent on the planet. Almost…