Hi Kathy and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, Were-Geeks Save Lake Wacka Wacka!
Hello! I’m so excited to be here. I love this site and your readers are awesome!
Please summarize the book for the readers here:
Were-Geeks Save Wisconsin have my heroes caught between two warring pixie tribes. What are pixies? They’re mischievous earth fairies who have no idea how lethal their games are to everyone else. And by the way, one tribe is really, really into cheese. It is Wisconsin after all.
Laddin is the happiest, most centered, most glass is overflowing even when it’s just got a drop of water in it kind of guy. So why, why, why does he have to fall for the grumpy one? Bruce is the grumpy one because he gives up everything to save his brother, only to discover that Josh doesn’t need or want him in his life at all. That sucks. And yet, somehow, in the middle of all that suckage, the world is ending, the pixies keep attacking him for no reason whatsoever, and… and… and… why shouldn’t he be grumpy? Oh yeah…Laddin.
Please share your favorite line(s) or quote from this book:
The elf dropped his head back against the seat. “My mother told me to stay away from humans. They’re all stupid and have rigid minds. They self-destruct and take everything else with them. But even she said they make really good ale.”
Bruce was trading witty words with a salad elf. And he wasn’t even drunk.
“You don’t go getting cherries without popping somebody’s cork somehow.”
“Mixed metaphor?” the fairy asked. “Human language is so hard to understand sometimes.”
“Do you know why I worked in Hollywood?” Laddin asked. “Because I liked pretending to be part of the action without actually being in it. I’m a couch superhero. I’ll cheer on Captain America, but I sure as hell don’t want to actually fight the Nazis. I don’t schlep through the jungle in search of Dr. Doom, and I sure as hell don’t want to go face-to-face with any demon. I’m sorry, Captain M, but you activated the wrong guy.”
“You’ll meet him later, but be careful. He’s kind of like a clown. You’ll either like him or he’ll haunt your nightmares.” Then Laddin brightened up. “I like him.”
Bruce would lay odds that Laddin liked just about everyone. He had one of those eternally bright personalities Bruce usually hated.
“You ate the fruit, you joined the team. Wulf, Inc. is responsible for all the lupine shifters in the world, and the bite marks on my jeans prove you qualify. Ergo, you get assignments from us.”
Catch a clue or die. Those are the werewolf ways.
Please share a few Fun facts about this book…
- The villain is huge. As in the size of an airplane hanger big. And yet, most of the book is spent searching for him.
- The immortal head of the werewolves gets in some pretty good one-liners.
- Bruce is a fire paramedic, but my editor had never heard the term. A fire paramedic is a person who is trained as a paramedic and a firefighter. It turns out that depending on the county, fire departments respond to a large percentage of medical calls that don’t involve a fire. (I got the idea from watching Station 19 and fellow author Mary Wine.)
What first attracts your Hero to the Heroine and vice versa?
Bruce is a first responder who rushes into the fire, who saves the day, and who is a complete disaster at being a werewolf. He can barely figure out how to eat as a wolf. He’s got no clue how to be a man. And frankly, trying to run on all fours is just confusing. Imagine being the best athlete in high school, the smartest responder because of his medical background, and a kick ass guy. Then you get a new body, discover magic, and have to figure out the basics again. Poor Bruce is really struggling, and he’s got to figure all that out before he can save his brother (and the world.) Not an easy task, but with Laddin’s help, he finds a way.
I have a relative who—thanks to a birth defect—has two fingers of one hand still baby sized though he’s a teenager now. He’s a great kid filled with life and attitude. His defect doesn’t seem to bother him at all (yay) but I’ve watched as others got very awkward around it. I gave the exact same birth defect to my hero Laddin. I think it’s because of his “handicap” that he’s the most positive character in the book. After all, he learned early that what might be a problem for others doesn’t need to bother him at all. He was a joy to write, and the perfect match for grumpy Bruce.
Did any scene have you blushing, crying or laughing while writing it? And Why?
I love this moment when Bruce can’t figure out how to change back into a man. He wants to help. He’s a paramedic who can’t help because he’s a wolf. Strangely, it’s one of the lowest points in the book for Bruce, and my heart hurts for him even as I laugh.
“Are you the paramedic?”
Laddin shook his head. “Not me. Him,” he said, pointing to Bruce.
Everyone looked at Bruce, and he straightened up to his full height. Except he was a wolf, which meant he stood there looking stupid. And that was exactly the look she gave him.
“Well?” she prompted. “You planning to lick the wounds better?”
He flushed. Or he would have, if he’d been human. Only he wasn’t.
He tried. He really tried to switch back to being a man. He visualized himself standing up to his impressive height. He thought of all the times he’d been needed out in the field. The car accident victims he’d treated, the house fires he’d help put out. Hell, he’d delivered three babies over his career and held them against his own chest to keep them warm. All of those memories flashed through his mind. He was damned good in a crisis, and yet all he could do right now was stand there with his tongue hanging out.
Meanwhile, Laddin shuffled his feet. “He’s new. He hasn’t gotten the hang of switching back and forth yet.”
Cara straightened up, and Bruce heard the crackle of her knees. He knew that sound. Knew the soft grunt when a body kept functioning long after it needed to rest. He could help her. As a paramedic, he could take some of the load off, if only he was a man. And yet try as he might, he remained exactly where he was: on four paws.
“Typical man,” she groused. “When you need his help, he’s a dumb animal.”
Bruce growled in response—dark and ugly, and mostly directed at himself. What the fuck? He was a man.
“Don’t growl at me,” she snapped. “Either get it together or get out of my way.”
How many times had he said the exact same thing to a new firefighter? Either help or get out of the way. He was trying!
“Don’t bother” came a voice from behind him.
Josh. Bruce whipped around to see his little brother dropping a backpack onto the floor so he could lace up his boots. He was wearing a field uniform, and damn if that didn’t look good on him. But it had obviously never been worn before, which told Bruce that Josh was new to the first responder game, and that was terrifying. Because his brother didn’t have that kind of skill. He thought things through too well. Fieldwork was all about gut reaction, and his brother lived in his head.
But though Bruce took a step toward the guy, Josh was already dismissing him.
“Bruce won’t help unless there’s some glory in it.”
That wasn’t true!
Meanwhile Cara snorted. “One of those, huh?”
“Yeah,” Josh said as he looked him dead in the eye. “And obviously useless as a werewolf.”
She chuckled as she looked back at Bruce with pitying eyes. “Don’t sweat it, puppy. Some of us aren’t cut out for this kind of work.”
The dismissive look cut deep. He’d said those words before to kids who’d never made it as a firefighter. Don’t worry, kid. It happens. Not everyone is cut out to be a firefighter.
But he was cut out for it. He’d been on the front lines for years—far longer than his brother. With every fiber of his being, he wished himself human. He’d been trying before, but this was like a wish to live, a need to breathe, a hunger for power or respect or any fucking thing he’d ever wanted in his entire life all rolled together in one desperate plea. I’m a man!
But he wasn’t. He remained a stinky, useless, mute dog.
The woman snorted. “Typical.” Then she lifted her phone up and snapped a picture.
Bruce bristled. Did she think he was a show dog? Would she pass his picture around to her friends and laugh at the wolf who smelled like fairy cheese?
“Did you just catch a Pokémon?” Josh asked as he looked over her shoulder at her cell.
“Don’t judge,” she said as she pocketed her cell. “It’s the only way I get my mother out of the house. I won’t trade with her unless she catches a few of her own.”
“I’m not judging,” Josh answered, his voice filled with admiration. “I wish I’d thought to do the same.”
They wandered off together, talking Pokémon in the same way Bruce and the other firefighters talked about sports. Bruce stood there, completely ignored. He wasn’t even cutting it as amusement. Cara had been playing Pokémon Go, not taking his picture. Never in his life had he been so completely dismissed.
But damn it, he was going to find a solution even if he was a stinking dog.
Readers should read this book….
Readers should read this book because it’s fun adventure with geeks and hotties, not to mention pixies and some good cheese jokes. The love story is solid, and Bruce’s redemption is real. It’s a beautiful story that made me laugh, cry, and curse even as I fell in love.
What are you currently working on? What other releases do you have in the works?
Into every generation is born a really scary relative. In this case, it’s Walter Chen’s aunt, who puts the spirit of a Chinese chaos god into his body. At first he doesn’t notice because he’s focused on shooting his indie film in Nowhere, Wisconsin, but pretty soon he’s doing amazing kung fu. Cool!
Bing Zhi Hao was Walter’s lead actor and best friend until he disappeared to become a werewolf and save the world. Now he’s back and trying to make amends… except his shy roommate isn’t quiet anymore. In fact, he’s downright scary.
Bing figures out the demigod is taking over Walter—body, mind, and soul. Soon the man Bing loves will be gone and chaos incarnate will be born on earth. He has to convince Walter to fight off the possession and return to the man he was. But what can he offer a god to convince him to remain a man?
Thanks for blogging at HJ!
Giveaway: Winner’s choice of a print or eBook copy of the Were-Geeks Save the World series launch book, WERE-GEEKS SAVE WISCONSIN.
To enter Giveaway: Please complete the Rafflecopter form and Post a comment to this Q: If you discovered a latent shifter gene in your background and suddenly had the ability to shift into another creature, would you do it? What type of shifter would you be?
Excerpt from Were-Geeks Save Lake Wacka Wacka:
THE DAY LADDIN GOT RECRUITED
(Eight weeks before Lake Wacka Wacka becomes a problem)
“You want me to put wallpaper on the teahouse wall,” Laddin Holt said. Though he didn’t phrase it as a question, his tone all but screamed, Are you serious?
Bing Wen Hao nodded. The man was producer and lead actor for the Red Wolf: Origin movie. He was also a stickler for detail and Laddin’s boss. “China invented wallpaper. This room would have a textile-type wallpaper.”
“But the wall is only seen when it gets blown up. It’s on screen for ten seconds at most.”
Bing Wen Hao merely looked at him, his face an impassive mask. But Laddin had been working shoulder to shoulder with the guy for two months now. He could read Bing’s opinion in the smallest shift of his chin, and on this point, Bing was being irrationally stubborn.
“It will take me hours,” Laddin said, still hoping to reach some sane part in his boss’s brain. “I have a dozen other things to do today.”
No-go. Bing was overwhelmed with anxiety because some Chinese bigwig was coming this afternoon. And when the boss got anxious, everybody suffered.
“Details matter,” Bing stressed.
Laddin knew that. He was the king of details, which was why he’d gotten the job of assistant director on this indie kung fu movie. It was quite a step up from being the explosives guy on five failed action shows. He was in charge of everything that wasn’t acting or camera placement. That meant the entire set design was his department, and he refused to fail now just because his boss was being irrational.
“Perhaps we could try different lighting—” he suggested, but Bing wasn’t going to let that pass.
“If you cannot do it, perhaps someone else will be able to.”
Laddin ground his teeth. Those words—or versions of it—had plagued him his entire life. His right hand was deformed, with his middle and fourth finger never growing beyond infant size. The docs had never given a good explanation of why. They suspected a growth plate break or a congenital birth defect. Didn’t change that his hand looked deformed. At first he’d hated himself for his handicap. But thanks to his mother, he realized it didn’t limit his ability to do anything he wanted to do. And yet, other people always questioned his capabilities.
“I can have it done by noon,” he snapped. “But you hired me to tell you when something doesn’t make sense. This doesn’t make sense. Not for ten seconds of screen time.”
He waited in silence as Bing stared at him. His boss’s expression was blank, but there was a whole lot of something going on inside his head. It was excruciating, standing there waiting, but patience was one of Laddin’s strengths, and eventually he was rewarded.
“You are correct,” Bing finally said. “Continue with your assigned tasks.”
Score one for the underling with nerves of steel. And then, to show Bing he wasn’t an asshole, Laddin offered a compromise. “I can roll a faint design onto the wall that will make it look like faded wallpaper. Shouldn’t take more than a half hour.”
Bing gave him a nod—his version of “thank you”—and then moved off to do his own work.
Though Laddin was annoyed by the man’s obsessive attention to a detail, he couldn’t fault Bing’s work ethic. The guy lived on the set night and day, working to make this movie as spectacular as possible on a very tiny budget.
And that meant Laddin had to start painting ASAP. He’d just grabbed the roller brush when his morning call from his grandmother came through.
“Hello, Grandmama. I’m still alive.”
“Oh, you poor baby. It still hasn’t happened.”
He chuckled because really, what else could he do? “Most grandmothers would be happy that their only grandchild is still around.”
“You’re not going to die, Laddin. How many times do I have to tell you that?” Her voice settled into her performance tone. Grandmama was a psychic by profession, and sometimes—most times—she needed to put on a show. “The day we realized your hand was different, I had a vision. The great Angel Charoum whispered to me that in your twenty-eighth year, you would transform into something magic—”
“I’m really busy right now. We’re supposed to start filming tomorrow, and everyone’s on edge.” He knew his grandmother hated being interrupted, and usually he’d let her prattle on, but he didn’t have the time today.
“Don’t despair, Laddin. It will happen for you. I know it will. There are still two months left before your birthday. You remember who Charoum is, yes?”
“He’s the Angel of Silence.” Of course he knew. Charoum’s prediction had been the topic of discussion for nearly every day of his twenty-eight years.
“Exactly! And when the Angel of Silence speaks, it’s very important to listen.”
“Yes, Grandmama.” And he had listened his whole life as everyone speculated on what the vision could mean. Most thought he would die, but Grandmama had insisted he’d transform into a magical being.
For the past ten months, his mother and grandmother had called every day to make sure he still breathed. Laddin just wanted it to be over. Death, rebirth, or becoming a crazed leprechaun—it didn’t matter to him so long as something happened, because at this point, he was pretty sure he’d spent his entire life anticipating an event that his grandmama had imagined to add excitement to her only grandson’s birth. And if it created endless speculation about his twenty-eighth year, then so much the better for her.
Him, not so much.
He was about to invent an excuse to get off the phone, but then it vibrated in his hand. A quick look had him rolling his eyes, but he knew he had to answer it. “I’m sorry, Grandmama. Mom’s calling. I have to tell her I’m still breathing.”
“Of course, Laddin. Don’t worry. It’ll happen soon.”
“I’m sure it will,” he lied. Then he clicked over to his mother. “Hi, Mom. I’m still alive.”
Seven long hours later, most of the day’s to-do list was finished, the Chinese bigwig was here and wasting everyone’s time, and Laddin was taking a much-needed break, sitting in his work area and going through the special effects for tomorrow’s scenes.
Suddenly a deep voice said, “Aladdin Holt?”
“Don’t touch anything,” he grumbled. It was what he always said when someone walked into his work area. He didn’t look up until he was done with the C-4, but when he finally did, he wished he hadn’t.
Two guys stood in his work area. One wore stripper pants; the other had on some sort of Doctor Strange outfit. “You want the set next door. They’re doing that Game of Thrones wannabe thing.”
Doctor Strange grinned. “We know. Where do you think we got these outfits?”
The stripper—whose torso was movie-worthy—shook his head. “He’s joking. They had way better stuff than this crap. Still, these getups allowed us to fit in while we found you.”
Well, that changed their category in Laddin’s mind from “thieves” to “groupies.” They were both beautiful enough to be actors, but neither of them had the charm. Which meant they were hangers-on who looked for odd jobs so they could participate in the movie magic.
Laddin pulled a business card out of his pocket and handed it over. “Here’s my email address. Send me your résumés and I’ll look them over.” It wouldn’t help them, though. He’d never work with a guy who wore stripper pants, and Doctor Strange was already poking into things on the electrical bench. “I asked you not to touch anything.”
The guy raised his hands and wiggled them in the air. “Not touching. Just sniffing.” Then he gestured at the Quit Slackin’ and Make It Happen poster taped to the back of Laddin’s door. “It’s like a Successories warehouse exploded in here. Tell us, Mr. Holt, do you find moviemaking a little lacking in magic these days? If so, we’ve got a deal for you!”
There was a dryness to his tone that set Laddin’s hackles on edge. What did this asshole care if he found expecting to die hard to take? “You need to leave here now,” he said, his patience exhausted. He advanced. He was small compared to the guy in stripper pants, but he was fast, and he had some frustration to work out.
Fortunately Stripper Pants held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Ignore Wiz. He’s an ass. My name’s Nero, and we’re here to offer you a job. It’s rewarding work, saving the world. That’s not an exaggeration, by the way. You’d be doing good for a lot of innocent people.”
God, could they get any more annoying? Every asshole in Hollywood thought their movie idea would change the world. “I’ve already got a job, and even if I didn’t, this”—he flicked his fingers at the guy’s clothes—“doesn’t impress me.”
Wiz grinned. “Didn’t think it would. But how about we try this?” The guy whipped out a three-ring binder and started chanting cheesy fantasy crap.
Laddin had absolutely no time for this nonsense. He grabbed stripper boy’s arm and yanked him around into a choke hold.
Or he tried to. Normally people underestimated his strength, given that he was a small guy among the tall, dark, and handsome actors in Hollywood. But when he got a hold of a guy’s arm, he held on with a death grip that usually took everyone by surprise.
Not this time. Sure, he managed a quick grab, but Nero was more than a match for him. The guy probably spent all his time in the gym, because Laddin’s best wrestling moves did nothing. Hell, the guy didn’t even bend. Which left Laddin standing there, holding on to the big guy’s wrist and thinking, WTF?
Then Wiz finished whatever the hell he was saying with a grand flourish, and both men froze as if waiting for something to happen.
Laddin waited too. It was force of habit. Grandmama often said things with a flourish, and it was only polite to wait for the dramatic results. But he didn’t have any patience left today.
“I’m calling security,” he said as he pulled the walkie-talkie off his hip.
Nero grabbed his hand and held him firm, but turned to look at Wiz. “What the hell happened?”
Wiz was frowning as he looked down at his binder in confusion. “I don’t know. I said it right.”
“Damn it!” Nero growled. “Call Gelpack!”
“I am!” Wiz said as he started texting one-handed.
Laddin had had enough. He broke the grip on his wrist and pulled up the walkie-talkie. He had one hand on the button, then suddenly stopped, his eyes widening in shock.
Goo oozed around and under the door to his work area. It moved fast and with purpose. Laddin had spent his entire career on a Hollywood set, but this was something he’d never, ever, seen before. Hell, it was worthy of The Shining. He gasped and shrank back, the gesture bumping him into Nero, who took the opportunity to grab the walkie-talkie with one hand and restrain Laddin with the other.
“Don’t worry. He’s with us,” Nero said as the goo formed into the vague shape of a human.
“What is it?” Laddin gasped, but no one answered. They were too busy talking to each other.
“Why didn’t it work?” Nero demanded.
“I said it exactly right,” Wiz said, his tone defensive.
“Unless it’s him?” Nero said, looking back at Laddin.
“You think it’s the wrong spell?” Wiz asked.
There was an edge of controlled panic to both their voices, as if they were worried but used to working things out on the fly. And all the while, Laddin just stared at the goo as it turned to look at him. It didn’t even have eyes but the vague impression of orb indents, and yet Laddin would swear it was staring straight at him.
“What are your feelings at this moment?” the gel-like thing warbled.
Nero groaned. “Not now.”
“I cannot understand his emotions. I will fix the spell if he explains.”
“Later—” Nero grumbled, but the gel thing paid him no heed. It advanced on Laddin with steps like a man’s, though it appeared more like a mold that had been filled with water—fluid, liquid. If he’d seen it on the big screen, he’d have called it cheesy. But in real life, it made the hair on the back of his head stand up in terror.
And then the truth hit him full force.
Today was the day. He either died or transformed into…. “Magic,” he breathed, seeing his grandmother’s prophesy play out before him. Then he laughed, though the sound had a hysterical edge to it. “It’s today!”
“Um, yeah, this is magic,” Nero said, confusion in his tone. “Well, the spell was. He’s—”
Laddin shrugged. Either one worked for him. “I’m not going to die,” he said as he started taking deep, relieved breaths. His grandmother’s prophesy was coming true, and it didn’t involve him coming to a painful end. Relief sent waves of giddiness through him.
“Not intentionally. It could still happen by accident,” Wiz muttered. Then he peered at Laddin. “Are you okay? Maybe the spell did do something. Maybe—”
“The spell was ineffective,” the transparent creature said. “You did not say it with clear intent.”
“The hell I didn’t!” Wiz huffed. “I intend for this guy to become a werewolf. I intend to get it over with so we can move on to the next guy. I intend to get myself a really stiff drink after this is all—”
Laddin’s head snapped up. “A werewolf? Really?” The idea was exciting in a terrifying kind of way.
Nero twisted him around. “You believe in weres?”
Behind him, Wiz snorted. “This is Hollywood. People here believe everything.”
“We do not!” Laddin snapped, the reaction automatic. It was his grandmama who believed everything. And had taught it to him.
The gel thing addressed him. “I do not understand your emotions. Most people are frightened.” He raised his hand and extended it toward Laddin, who immediately choked on his giddiness. Except it wasn’t giddiness anymore. The sight of that clear ooze coming close to his face was terrifying, and he squeaked in alarm.
“That is better,” the thing said. “The spell should work now. His pattern has settled into fear.” The head spun toward Wiz. Not the body, not the shoulders, just the head—Exorcist-style. “Fear will make it stronger, to be sure.”
Nero blew out a heavy breath. “We were trying to do this nicely. Without trauma!”
“That was never going to happen,” Wiz grumbled.
“Shut up and do the spell again. With intent this time!”
Wiz started speaking, his words a mesmerizing mix of nonsense and real words. Laddin focused on it rather than the gel-like horror before him. Nothing here was odd, he told himself. In fact, he’d been waiting his entire life for this very moment. He felt his shoulders relax and his breath steady.
“He is not frightened enough,” the alien said. “His mind appears to be unusually accepting. Are you sure this is the right man?”
“Yes!” Nero snapped. “It’s Hollywood, for God’s sake. Who knows what people here think is true? For all we know, you’re not his first alien.”
“That is most unusual,” the thing said, and there was interest in his warbled voice. “I should like to probe this further.”
Laddin had no idea if it was intentional or not, but the word probe exploded in his mind and tightened areas of his body into hard knots of terror.
“Much better,” the alien said as he turned toward Wiz. “You may finish now.”
Wiz did. His voice rose with an impressive crescendo while his free hand danced in the air. Then there was a boom. Not an audible boom but a vibration that affected Laddin more than the biggest car explosion he’d ever pulled off.
His muscles quivered and his bones rattled with the power of it. His throat closed off and his shoulders hunched. But inside, he was still caught up in Grandmama’s prediction. Finally, the batty old woman had been proven right, and that made him happy. She may have plagued his childhood with one wacky idea after another, but in this, she was 100 percent right.
“Do not be so calm,” the alien warbled. “Otherwise you will die.”
The line was so stupid that it actually made Laddin loosen up even more. His cells were bathed in an electric current that was almost fun as it coursed through his body in erratic and uncertain patterns. But before he could fully relax, a sound filled the room—a guttural roar like that of a beast. It was harsh and terrified, but the fury in the roar spiked Laddin’s adrenaline. That was the sound of a creature about to attack. And from the depth of the noise, he knew it wasn’t a small animal.
In fact, it sounded like a very pissed-off wolf.
The others must have had the same thought. Wiz and Nero stared at each other in shock. The alien, however, seemed to settle more firmly into its form as he warbled.
“Much better. You will survive now.” Then he looked at the other men. “The other one will die without help.”
“What other one?” Nero demanded. Then he waved off an answer, pointing hard at Wiz. “You watch this one. Gelpack, you’re with me. At least you can get a leg ripped off without dying.”
The alien oozed toward the door. “It is hard to stabilize a werewolf while being dismembered, but I will try.”
Laddin turned to help. After all, this was his set, his workplace. But his body moved strangely. His head was tilted too far forward, and his vision was different—more side to side, less in front. His balance was off because his hands were taking weight.
He looked down and saw fur and paws, and when he gasped, his tongue was too long and his nose… mamma mia, the scents! He could smell everything! He started spinning, stumbling as he tried to maneuver. His backside was wiggling, and he kept trying to stand up to see better, but he was a wolf. He couldn’t stand like a man.
He was a wolf! The joy of that flooded his body, and he yipped in excitement. There was so much to explore. Not just his body, but everything in his office was new. Dust bunnies and spilled soda, cracker crumbs and gunpowder. He couldn’t decide what to smell first.
“Settle down!” Wiz exclaimed as he knelt down with his arms wide. “You’re going to break something! And in here, who knows what you’ll set off.”
That sank in. His office was filled with explosive charges and delicate electronics for special effects. He’d spent hours organizing things in the most logical and safe manner. The last thing he wanted was to mess that up. So he stilled, though not quite frozen. His backside was wiggling back and forth. It took him a moment to realize that it was his tail whipping around behind him. And with that knowledge came the need to see, so he twisted around to could look. But then his ass turned as well, and he was spinning like a top.
Wiz groaned. “They always have to see their tail. Hold still! I’ll grab it so you can see it. I’ve never seen a happier wolf in my life.”
There was a sharp tug on his butt, hard enough to make him yip in surprise, and then he lunged forward to bite. It wasn’t a conscious movement. Hell, nothing he did right now was conscious. It was all instinct. The more he thought about moving anything, the less he was able to do it. But he lunged and nearly took a hunk out of Wiz’s hand.
Fortunately the guy was fast. One second his hand was right there, the next it was gripping Laddin’s muzzle tight.
“There’ll be none of that!” he snapped. “But now that I’ve got you….”
Something sharp stabbed him hard in the neck. A hypodermic needle, he realized as Wiz abruptly stood holding the thing high. Laddin growled in annoyance, but Wiz just shook his head.
“You’re a new pup. We need to get you into a safe environment. Then you can chase your tail all you want.”
Lethargy was growing fast. It was becoming harder and harder to stay standing, and damn it, his head was dropping too. He whined, high-pitched and mournful, but that was all the sound he got out before he flopped onto the floor. He could see his paws spread out before him, but he couldn’t move them. And pretty soon his head lolled to the side. He tried to keep his eyes open. If nothing else, there was so much to see from this angle. And the smells….
Too late. He was going under.
But the good news still echoed through his heart, and his last conscious thoughts were joyous.
Grandmama had been right! He’d transformed into something magic! And being a werewolf was fun, fun, fun!
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Paramedic and firefighter Bruce Collier became a werewolf to protect his family—and hopefully make amends for the way he treated his younger brother. His bitterness nearly turned him into the monster he thought his brother was… until he met Mr. Happy.
Werewolf Laddin Holt—a.k.a. Mr. Happy—likes things organized as he makes them go boom. He’s Wulf, Inc.’s explosive expert and the only one calming the turmoil inside Bruce.
At least until they’re drawn into a conflict between two factions of fairies living around Lake Wacka Wacka. Bruce wants to take them out, Laddin has other ideas, and neither of them sees the real threat lurking behind the scenes—or how their love could be the answer to everybody’s problems.
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Meet the Author:
Kathy Lyons is the wild, adventurous half of USA TODAY bestselling author Jade Lee. A lover of all things fantastical, Kathy spent much of her childhood in Narnia, Middle Earth, Amber, and Earthsea, just to name a few. Meanwhile, ball gowns and rakish lords caught Jade’s attention and her fascination with historical romance began.
Both Kathy and Jade have a gift for creating a lively world, witty dialogue, and hot, sexy humor. Winner of several industry awards including the Prism—Best of the Best, Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice, and Fresh Fiction’s Steamiest Read, Kathy/Jade has published 60 romance novels and says she’s just getting started.
In her free time (what’s that?) her hobbies include racquetball, rollerblading, and tv/movie watching with her husband. She’s a big fan of the Big Bang Theory (even though it’s over) and her favorite movie is The Avengers because she loves everything created by Joss Whedon. And she’d love to share all things geek with you in person at any of her many appearances. She’s usually found at the loudest table in the coffee shop or next to the dessert bar.
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