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    Falling For A Wolf #5 (BBW Werewolf Romance): Falling For A Wolf, #5
    Falling For A Wolf #5 (BBW Werewolf Romance): Falling For A Wolf, #5
    Falling For A Wolf #5 (BBW Werewolf Romance): Falling For A Wolf, #5
    Ebook119 pages2 hours

    Falling For A Wolf #5 (BBW Werewolf Romance): Falling For A Wolf, #5

    By Mac Flynn

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    About this ebook

    Chris and Adam's calm and quiet life together in her cabin comes to an abrupt end when she sees an online column about her hometown being terrorized by a familiar supernatural creature. They decide seeing is believing, and head out to her parents' home to solve the mystery. Mayhem and hilarity ensue as Adam learns more about Chris' wild past, and she tries to keep their true purpose for visiting hidden from her quirky parents. She's not sure what will happen first: her parents driving her crazy or the monster taking a bite out of her.

    Falling For A Wolf #5 is the fifth book in the FALLING FOR THE WOLF series.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherCrescent Moon Studios, Inc.
    Release dateMar 21, 2015
    ISBN9781507029787
    Falling For A Wolf #5 (BBW Werewolf Romance): Falling For A Wolf, #5
    Author

    Mac Flynn

    A seductress of sensual words and a lover of paranormal plots, Flynn enjoys writing thrilling paranormal stories filled with naughty fun and hilarious hijinks. She is the author of numerous paranormal series that weave suspense, adventure and a good joke into a one-of-a-kind experience that readers are guaranteed to enjoy. From long adventure novels to tasty little short-story treats, there's a size and adventure for everyone.Want to know when her next series comes out? Join The Flynn newsletter and be the first to know! macflynn.com/newsletter/Also check out her website at macflynn.com for listings and excerpts of all of her books!

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      Book preview

      Falling For A Wolf #5 (BBW Werewolf Romance) - Mac Flynn

      1

      My nose was chilly. So were my fingers and toes. Hell, most of me was chilled to the bone as I lay beneath the heavy load of blankets and quilts. The small heater in the corner couldn’t fight against the chill that invaded through the walls. I inched my foot out of the covers to test the air. It was cold, almost freezing, or at least it felt that cold to my shivering little toes. I pulled my foot back inside the blankets and snuggled against the furnace that lay beside me. He was always so warm and sometimes fuzzy, but I never asked him to shave. I never had to. He was his own shaver and fur coat.

      I stayed there until I was nice and warm, and well-prepared for the cold world outside the covers. My clothes were scattered about the room after another wild night of love-making. I jumped from the bed and snatched them from all corners of the room. They were cold and I shivered as I slipped arms and legs into their appropriate clothes. In a thrice I slipped from the room and hurried to the chimney. The coals were black, but still warm, and I’d been practicing. A few moments later and I had a small, crackling fire beneath my chilled hands.

      Next was the cocoa, and that was quickly taken care of. In a few minutes I stood at the front windows with a piping-hot mug between my warming hands. I gazed out the window and sipped on my cocoa. Outside the cabin the world was a white wonderland of wet stuff. Six inches of snow lay around the cabin and over my newly-fixed car. This first fall of the year was just the beginning. Full winter would come and there would be even more inches of snow. The white stuff would lean against the walls and encase us in its cold embrace.

      That would be when the cabin-fever would set in. I could imagine myself in a fruit-bowl headdress and a yellow towel draped over my body like a toga. I would dance past the windows with maracas made of pine cones and shish kabob sticks in my hands, and a conga line of squirrels behind me with nuts in their mouths.

      The last image made me spit my cocoa onto the panes of glass. I think it’s already setting in, I mumbled to myself.

      What has? a voice spoke behind me.

      I started and spun around, spilling more cocoa on the floor and myself. At least I was warmer. I held out my dripped hands and shirt, and glared at the half-naked figure in front of me. That was Adam Smith, my lover and now-roommate. A thin bed sheet was wrapped around his middle and ruining my view of his perfectly sculptured body.

      Don’t you know how to knock or make some sort of tapping noise when you walk around? I scolded him.

      It’s the habit of a predator to be quiet, he defended himself.

      I walked over to the kitchen and deposited my half-empty mug into the sink while I cleaned my hands and shirt. Then I might get the habit of hanging a bell around your neck so I know you’re coming.

      He slipped over to me and wrapped his strong, muscular arms around me. His face nuzzled into my neck. That sounds intriguingly kinky.

      I rolled my eyes and slipped out from his grasp. Uh-huh, and you sound like you’re distracting me from my work. You know, it’s not all work and play for me. I don’t have a couple of centuries of a retirement account to live off of.

      You could if you would accept my offer to quit your job, he argued.

      I reached the couch and pushed a box of his stuff off one of the side cushions. His unpacking still wasn’t quite complete. I plopped myself down on the cushion and pulled my laptop into my lap. I only hoped the internet still worked with all that snow on the antenna. Then what would I do with myself? I countered.

      Adam walked over to the rear of the couch and leaned down beside my left side. I could think of some interesting positions.

      I snorted and pushed him away. You’re as horny as a teenager. How many decades did you go without getting any?

      Far too many, he commented as he strode around the front of the couch and over to the fire. My pitiful attempt was attempting to peter itself to nothing. You have a knack for extinguishing fires, he commented."

      It’s a gift, I absently replied. My focus lay on my computer. The internet somehow worked, and I wanted to see if my latest column had been uploaded by the IT guys. It was supposed to be available every Saturday morning, and this morning was that morning. I was relieved to see it there on the front page, all nice and readable.

      Then my eyes spotted something on the sidebar. It was under the Entertainment section, and was a headline with an adjoining picture. The picture showed the head of a werewolf howling to a dark night sky. I leaned closer and read the headline aloud. ‘Werewolf Terrorizes Isolated Community.’ I wrinkled my nose. Adam, have you been going out without my knowing?

      Adam’s head perked up and he half turned to me. Pardon?

      I pointed at the screen. Some werewolf’s been causing problems at some isolated community. They a friend of yours?

      He came over and took a seat beside me. His eyes browsed the headline and he frowned. Let us see the article, he suggested.

      I clicked on the link and sent us to the article. It was short, only three paragraphs. I looked at the location of the werewolf sightings and my mouth dropped open. That isn’t an isolated community! That’s my hometown! I yelped.

      Adam, too, looked flustered. And I believe we may have a problem.

      What? Besides me being personally insulted? I asked him.

      He nodded at the article. The article describes what may very well be a werewolf attack on wild animals and livestock. The signs of large teeth marks and slashing claws certainly suit a werewolf.

      Or a bear. I’ll admit my hometown is a little on the rough edges, and sometimes main street traffic stops because of bears wandering through, I admitted.

      He shook his head. A bear does not attack livestock. They would rather forage through trash. He pointed at the middle paragraph. And there appears to be an eye-witness account to the beast being in the woods.

      I squinted at the paragraph. ‘One of the local woodsman reported seeing the creature with his own eyes, and described the beast as one taken from legend.’ Sounds serious. What do you think we should do?

      We should investigate the matter and see what we might find, he suggested.

      I cringed. So driving in this weather? I guessed.

      Yes, but we will be escaping the heaviest of the snow for a few days, he pointed out.

      I sighed and set my laptop on the coffee table. I suppose, but where should we stay?

      To be as inconspicuous as possible I would suggest the home of your parents. You mentioned this was your hometown, he reminded me.

      My face fell and my shoulders drooped. Um, how about we stay in a hotel? Might be more comfortable.

      He raised an eyebrow. Do you not wish to visit with your parents?

      It’s-well, it’s not that. I just haven’t told them about-well, about us, I revealed.

      They must know some time, he countered.

      I sighed and stood. My phone sat on the kitchen counter charging. Nothing sucked the life out of a phone like being in the middle of the wilderness. I rang their number, and in a moment my mom’s voice came over the phone. Hello?

      Hi, Mom, it’s Christina, I greeted her.

      Chrissy! It’s been so long since you called! Your father and I were getting worried! she scolded me. Though the phone wasn’t on speaker her voice was still loud and chipper enough to be easily heard by Adam, with or without super werewolf hearing.

      I’ve-um, I’ve been busy, I admitted as my eyes swept over to Adam, the reason for my business. But anyway, I was wanting to visit you guys for a few days. Adam held up seven fingers. A week, at most.

      "That would be

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