The Mane Event

by Shelly Laurenston

  Ronnie beamed up at him. “He likes you,” she whispered.

  Brendon frowned. “Likes me? The man grunted at me. Twice.”

  “You’re still breathing, aren’t you?” Brendon didn’t even know how to respond to that, which Ronnie took as agreement. “Exactly.”

  The front door opened again, and heavy footsteps could be heard as Ronnie’s brothers marched in the room, their arms filled with either wood or Mason jars filled with that paint thinner they tried to pass off as liquor.

  Rory stopped first, staring at the pair. “What y’all doing here?”

  “He tricked me,” Ronnie said simply.

  “You decided to get involved with a cat.” Rory dropped a pile of wood by the fireplace. “What exactly did you expect?”

  Ricky Lee took off his heavy winter jacket and carelessly tossed it onto a chair.

  “Don’t you leave that coat lying around, Ricky Lee,” his mother yelled from the kitchen.

  “How does she do that?” he demanded while snatching the coat back up and taking it to the hall closet.

  Ronnie opened her mouth to reply and Rory cut her off without even looking at her, “And don’t say Satan, Rhonda Lee. It wasn’t funny twenty years ago, it’s less so now.”

  “Are you guys staying with Smitty’s Pack?” Brendon asked as he walked around the room, taking everything in. Enjoying this side of family life he’d never experienced before, but might now that he had both Marissa and Mitch admitting blood connections.

  “Yup. Already talked to Daddy. He knows it’s for the best.”

  “Besides,” Reece added, his big fingers affectionately scratching Ronnie’s head as he passed her to help himself to the entire plate of sweet rolls, “he likes the idea of us keeping an eye out for this little monster.”

  “I don’t need y’all watching out for me.”

  “Is that right?” The big grin on Rory’s face had Brendon’s eyes narrowing. Crouching by the fireplace, Ronnie’s brother looked back at Brendon. “Rhonda Lee ever tell you how she and Sissy Mae made money while traveling the world?”

  “No. How did she—”

  “Hookin’,” Ronnie Lee tossed in desperately. “I was a prostitute. A damn good one too.”

  “Stop lyin’, Rhonda Lee,” her mother called from the kitchen. “I doubt you were good at all.”

  Brendon grabbed hold of Ronnie before she could go after her mother.

  “She was not a prostitute,” Ricky Lee said, scooting by Ronnie but not before flicking her forehead with his middle finger.

  “Try illegal racing,” Rory said, and his grin grew.

  Brendon blinked. “What?”

  “You heard me, hoss.”

  “Her and Sissy Mae,” Ricky Lee added.

  “Sissy Mae would set ’em up and Ronnie Lee would knock ’em down.” Reece laughed. “They still sell her T-shirts in Japan and Korea.”

  Her face red with embarrassment, Ronnie Lee walked away from them all and threw herself into one of the plush recliners.

  “What was their motto again, Ricky Lee?” Rory asked, his hands held in front of a now-roaring fire in the fireplace.

  “A rich boy and his money will soon be parted.”

  “That’s right. Sissy Mae would find some rich boy with no sense and a hot car. Challenge him to a race, and the brain surgeon over there would race him. By the time they were done with him, they’d have the winnings, the poor sap’s car, and sometimes real estate.”

  “Which they’d sell and invest. Sissy Mae can turn a dime into ten thousand dollars in an hour.”

  “That She-wolf does have a gift.”

  “I don’t want to discuss this anymore,” Ronnie snarled.

  Nodding, Rory stood up. “She’s right. Might as well save the really good info for tonight’s dinner.”

  The three brothers headed for the hallway, but Rory stopped and asked, “How did you two get here so fast anyway?”

  “Took his daddy’s jet.”

  “Hey!” Ricky cheered. “Did you hear that, boys? We’re taking a jet back to New York City.”

  “Who the hell invited you?” Ronnie practically yelled.

  “Ronnie Lee, you can’t expect us to go coach now that you’ve snagged yourself a rich boyfriend.”

  Ronnie flashed her fangs at Ricky and Rory stepped between them. Staring down at his sister, he said, “Be nice, Rhonda Lee, or I’ll have to tell Momma how the barn burned down that time.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You swore you’d never tell.”

  Her brother snorted and winked at Brendon. “Rory Lee Reed in a jet. Has a nice ring to it, don’t it?”

  Laughing, the three brothers walked out, and by the time Brendon turned back to Ronnie, she already had one of the windows open and was halfway out of it.

  He rolled his eyes and grabbed her, dragging her back into the house.

  She struggled in his arms. “I won’t stay!”

  Brendon spun her around and kissed her. Within seconds, they were practically tearing each other’s clothes off.

  “Rhonda Lee!” her mother bellowed from the kitchen. “Get that ass in here right now, little miss!”

  Startled, the couple jumped apart.

  Ronnie pulled her shirt back down while Brendon adjusted the front of his jeans.

  “What is it, Momma?” Ronnie Lee called out, somehow keeping her panting under control.

  “Y’all come into this kitchen and keep me company while your daddy and the boys hunt down that boar for dinner.”

  Like a teenager, Ronnie rolled her eyes. “But—”

  “Now, Ronnie Lee.”

  “Fine!”

  Stamping her foot, Ronnie started to storm off, but Brendon grabbed her arm, pulling her back a bit.

  “Don’t start a fight, Ronnie.”

  “Me? She started it—”

  “Ronnie.”

  “Fine. You wanna side with her, go ahead. Hope you enjoy sleeping alone tonight, hoss.”

  She turned and started to storm off again when Brendon said to her retreating form, “I packed the skirt.”

  Ronnie froze in the doorway, her body tense, fingers gripping the door frame. After several moments, Ronnie turned and whispered, “Keep it down, Brendon Shaw. If my momma finds out what we did on your parents’ couch she’ll skin me alive.”

  Flowing right into their little game, Brendon moved in front of her and placed his hands on the archway, his arms and body leaning over Ronnie Lee. If he remembered correctly, he did the same thing to her at the hospital. It was a signature Shaw move he often used in high school. “I promised I wouldn’t tell and I won’t. But I need to see you tonight.”

  “I…I can’t. I have a calculus test next week.”

  “Meet me, Ronnie.” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her forehead. “Promise you’ll meet me.”

  “Where?”

  “My car. Tonight.”

  She swallowed. “Your car?”

  “Yeah. I wanna see if those boots look as good against the inside roof of my car as they do against this floor.”

  Ronnie looked honestly surprised for several moments before a beautiful grin spread across her face. She shook her head and instantly went back to their game. “Are we gonna do what we did…before?”

  “Did you like what we did before?”

  Looking appropriately embarrassed and turned on at the same time, she nodded. “I…I did.”

  “Then, yes. We’ll do what we did before. As many times as you want.”

  “Rhonda Lee Reed. Get your ass in here now!”

  Her grin returned. “Coming, Momma,” she called back. She looked at Brendon, sizing him up. “At least I better be. Tonight. In that car.”

  Brendon laughed. “That I definitely promise.” He brushed a finger across her cheek. “Love you, Ronnie Lee.”

  She went up on her toes and kissed his lips. “I love you, too. Now,” she grabbed his hand with her own, intertwining their fingers, “let’s go have some fun
molesting each other when my family ain’t lookin’.”

  Grinning, Brendon let Ronnie lead him to the warm Evans-Reed family kitchen. “Rhonda Lee Reed, I absolutely love how you think.”

  Can’t get enough Shelly Laurenston?

  Try her other books available from Brava…

  THE BEAST IN HIM

  In The Mane Event, Shelly Laurenston introduced a whole new breed of heroes—sexy, shape-shifting hunks who redefine the term Alpha male. Now, in The Beast In Him, one gorgeous lone wolf is about to meet his match…

  Some things are so worth waiting for. Like the moment when Jessica Ward “accidentally” bumps into Bobby Ray Smith and shows him just how far she’s come since high school. Back then, Jess’s gangly limbs and bruised heart turned to jelly any time Smitty’s “all the better to ravish you with” body came near her. So, some things haven’t changed. Except now Jess is a success on her own terms. And she can enjoy a romp—or twenty—with a big, bad wolf and walk away. Easy.

  The sexy, polished CEO who hires Smitty’s security firm might be a million miles from the lovable geek he knew, but her kiss, her touch, is every bit as hot as he imagined. Jess was never the kind to ask for help, and she doesn’t want it now, not even with someone targeting her Pack. But Smitty’s not going to turn tail and run. Not before proving that their sheet-scorching animal lust is only the start of something even wilder…

  THE MANE ATTRACTION

  Ready for something wild? Shelly Laurenston’s sensual, shape-shifting heroes are definitely a breed apart. But even the king of the beasts can find himself unexpectedly tamed by the right woman…

  Weddings have the strangest effect on people. How else to explain the fact that Sissy Mae Smith woke up in Mitch Shaw’s bed the morning after her brother Bobby Ray tied the knot? Or that gunmen are trying to kill Mitch, and Sissy Mae now has to escort a bleeding, stubborn, yet still incredibly sexy lion shifter to her Tennessee Pack’s turf to keep him safe? It doesn’t help that Mitch’s appraising gaze makes her feel like the most desirable creature on earth, or that the ultimate stray cat is suddenly acting all kinds of possessive…

  Mitch is an undercover cop who’s about to testify against some dangerous ex-associates. Even more worrisome, he’s harboring hot, X-rated fantasies about the fast-talking little canine—and he has to deal with every male in Sissy Mae’s Pack sniffing around her in a way that makes his hackles rise. Mitch has his pride, and he intends to show Sissy Mae that when a lion sets out to make you his mate, the only thing to do is purr, roll over, and enjoy one hell of a ride…

  And don’t miss Shelly’s newest book,

  THE MANE SQUEEZE, coming next month from Brava!

  In Shelly Laurenston’s laugh-out-loud funny, deliciously sexy novel, a shape-shifting Grizzly and a single dangerous feline collide—and discover untamed, unstoppable attraction…

  Growing up on the tough Philly streets, Gwen O’Neill has learned how to fend for herself. But what is she supposed to do with a nice, suburban Jersey boy in the form of a massive Grizzly shifter? Especially one with a rather unhealthy fetish for honey, moose, and…uh…well, her. Yet despite his menacing ursine growl and four-inch claws, Gwen finds Lachlan “Lock” MacRyrie cute and really sweet. He actually watches out for her, protects her, and unlike the rest of her out-of-control family manages not to morbidly embarass her. Too bad cats don’t believe in forever.

  At nearly seven feet tall, Lock is used to people responding to him in two ways: screaming and running away. Gwen—half lioness, half tigress, all kick-ass—does neither. She’s sexy beyond belief and smart as hell, but she’s a born protector. Watching out for the family and friends closest to her but missing the fact that she’s being stalked by a murderous enemy who doesn’t like hybrids…and absolutely hates Gwen. Lock probably shouldn’t get involved, but he will. Why? Because this is Gwen—and no matter what the hissing, roaring, drape-destroying feline says about not being ready to settle down, Lock knows he can’t simply walk away. Not when she’s come to mean absolutely everything to him.

  Turn the page for a sneak peek!

  Gwen rested her head on her folded arms and began to drift off to sleep.

  “Comfortable?”

  “Hmm,” she answered. She liked that voice. It was so low. She could imagine waking up to that voice every day, with the voice whispering that breakfast was ready or asking her if she wanted to share the shower. She could imagine all sorts of dirty things to be done with soap if that voice was involved. And yet…why was that dirty, sexy voice so close?

  Gwen opened her eyes and blinked several times. His arms were folded on her tree limb the same way hers were and his head rested on them as he watched her with those beautiful brown eyes.

  “Christ, how tall are you?”

  He scowled. “It’s not that I’m so tall, Mr. Mittens, it’s that you’re not that high up.”

  “Bullshit.” She had to be like, forty feet up. Maybe even fifty! Right? She glanced down. Wrong.

  Still, she wasn’t exactly lying on the ground either. “You’re like seven feet tall, aren’t you?”

  “I am not seven feet tall,” he snapped at her as if she’d really insulted him. “I’m six-eleven.” When she smirked in disbelief, he added, “And three-quarters.”

  “And that quarter inch makes such a difference, too.”

  “That’s it. I’m taking you back to the medical center.”

  Like hell.

  As the grizzly reached for her, Gwen unleashed her claws and quickly scrambled up higher. She knew for a fact that grizzlies couldn’t climb trees either. So there! She was totally safe. She’d simply stay here until she healed up and then she’d head on back to the safety of her Philly streets.

  “You’re being ridiculous,” he called up to her.

  “I’m not going back there to die. I can do that just as well out here, in the fresh air.” With all her organs intact in her decaying body.

  “If you go back to the medical center you’re not going to die.”

  “Like I’ll believe that lie for two seconds.”

  “And what about when the fever hits? You’re going to fall out of that tree eventually.”

  Gwen couldn’t help but get kind of smug. “The O’Neills don’t get the fever.”

  “Don’t even try it.”

  “We don’t. My brother got shot three times two months ago, and he didn’t get the fever.”

  “I bet your family gets shot at a lot, huh?”

  “Hey, hey!” Gwen said excitedly. “Look at this! Look at this!” She extended her arm and gave him the finger.

  “I should leave your Philly ass up there!” he snarled.

  “Like I’d ever need help from some Jersey rich boy!”

  “Look, Mr. Mittens”—and Gwen didn’t think she could explain how much she hated when he called her that—“either you get your ass down here or I’m getting you out of that tree the hard way.”

  “You have an enormous head,” Gwen taunted, enjoying the way his entire body tensed. “It’s like a giant kumquat.” Then she giggled hysterically, liking the word “kumquat” way more than she should.

  “You want it that way,” he said in a low voice, “you’ve got it.” He stepped back and pulled off the hospital scrubs he’d been wearing. She only had a moment to wonder why he was getting naked—and enjoying that astounding view for all it was worth—before he shifted to bear. His height increased considerably once he did, going from his nearly not-quite seven feet to a full ten, but she was still too high for him to reach.

  Leaning over, she taunted, “Nice try but no—”

  Gwen squealed, gripping the branch she was on. He didn’t try and climb up to her, he simply took firm hold of the old tree and began to shake it. Christ, how much did she guess he weighed as bear? Fifteen hundred pounds? Maybe more? And all of it pure muscle. With his claws gripping the trunk, he simply shoved the tree back and forth. It was an old tree—sturdy, strong, and disease free—but it still wasn’t
strong enough to stand up to the grizzly, the roots beginning to tear from the ground as he relentlessly kept up his actions.

  “Stop it!” Gwen yelped, but he ignored her.

  The tree, loose from its anchor in the ground, swung forward, Gwen’s lower half flying free of the branch and dangling in midair. She yelped again, and the tree came swinging back. Her body was already weak; her hands lost their grip on the tree, and she went headfirst toward the ground.

  She closed her eyes, not wanting to see that last second of her life. Yet the bear again showed how fast he was for his size, plucking her out of the air and pulling her in tight against his body. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her hands resting on the giant lump of muscle between his shoulder blades.

  Gasping for breath, she clung to him, burying her face against his neck. She felt his fur recede, his body straightening as it shrunk down to its only slightly less freakishly tall height, while the dramatic hump between his shoulder blades grew smaller and smaller until she could only feel it as several extra layers of muscle. He began walking, briefly stopping to pick up the scrubs.

  “I can’t go back,” she whispered against his neck, horrified that she couldn’t stop the shaking of her body.

  He stopped, the tree he’d taken her from crashing to the ground behind them, and gently asked, “What are you afraid of?”

  “Dying.”

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  Copyright © 2007, 2009 by Shelly Laurenston

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  ISBN: 0-7582-4880-6