Moonlight Kin 3: Nic
Werewolf Nic La Croix isn’t anyone’s white knight, but that doesn’t stop him from rescuing a curvy, human female who has no business being in a shifter bar. A smart wolf would put her in her car and make her drive away. Nic intends to do that once she’s out of danger, but you know what they say about intentions…
Mindy MacDougal has spent most of her life being her sister’s keeper. For once, she’d like to be the irresponsible one. When a planned night out takes a deadly turn, an unlikely hero comes to her rescue. His reward, a kiss. One kiss is all it takes to draw Mindy into Nic’s dark world. What happens when she finds out the monster isn’t under her bed–he’s in it?
Read an Unedited Excerpt
Note for Readers: This book contains adult content intended for mature individuals.
A shadow of ash spread across the highway, staining the asphalt a deeper shade of gray. Fissure cracks appeared, threading their boney fingers wide until the earth bucked beneath Jerry Seaver’s semi-truck. He clenched the wheel and fought to keep the heavy load from jackknifing on the road.
“Damn earthquakes,” he muttered under his breath, but his heart continued to pound.
Thunder cracked in a cloudless blue sky. Jerry poked his head out the window. He squinted against the sunlight and looked around, but the only thing he could see was a green ocean of trees rocking gently in the breeze.
The fine hairs on his arms rose, along with the pressurization in the cab of his truck. Jerry’s ears popped. His unease increased despite the natural beauty around him.
He wiped his hand across his grit-covered face and it came away moist. The highway stretched out in front of him with no cars in sight. There wasn’t a town around for miles. Jerry was alone. The sudden change in the air reminded him just how isolated he was on this back road. Suddenly the shortcut he’d taken wasn’t such a good idea.
He shifted gears and pressed his foot down. Smoke billowed out the semi’s exhaust pipes as the engine strained to pick up speed. Jerry didn’t want to be out here surrounded by oppressive woods any longer than necessary.
A half a mile in front of him the air shimmered like waves on a pond. It was too cool for the mirage to be heat rising from the asphalt. Jerry’s foot eased off the accelerator and the truck slowed, but he wasn’t about to stop. The glistening increased and the air yawned, opening wide to reveal its gaping black mouth.
“What the hell?” Jerry leaned forward to get a better look at…at…he had no idea what he was seeing. The sun gleamed off his red hood, but didn’t penetrate the dark entrance ahead.
It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.
“You’re just tired,” he muttered aloud.
Jerry rubbed his eyes and shook his head. He’d been driving for ten hours and hadn’t gotten much sleep the previous night. He was determined to get to Vancouver today.
The crisp air worked to keep him awake, but wouldn’t prevent hallucinations. This had to be one, because what he was witnessing didn’t make sense.
He reached for his Red Bull and took the last sip. Moisture dribbled down his chin onto his shaggy beard. Jerry wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then crushed the can and tossed it over his shoulder before grabbing another out of his cooler.
Jerry pressed the cold can to his forehead, then popped it open. He took a deep swallow, then checked to see if the hallucination still hovered above the road.
The tear had widened, revealing more of the gloom. If it got any bigger, it would swallow his truck. Something moved in the shadows. Fear plunged its icy fingers into him, locking on to his spine.
The gap expanded and someone—no, something—fell out, then the opening snapped shut.
Jerry was too close to stop and too scared to react. His truck barreled down upon the…he squinted…creature, striking the black mass. A loud bang filled the cab as the shadowy thing smacked the grille and flew through the air, landing on the side of the road.
He glanced into his side mirror to see where it had gone. The black creature rose, took a few steps, then collapsed in the lane.
Jerry crossed himself and prayed that it was dead. Whatever he’d struck wasn’t human, wasn’t of this world. He had seen where it had come from with his own eyes and he wasn’t about to stick around to find out if it was okay. With his heart in his throat, Jerry shifted gears and tore down the road.
An hour later, he pulled his rig into the truck stop and washed the blood off the grill. By the time Jerry Seaver reached Vancouver, he had convinced himself that he’d imagined the whole incident.