Falling for Shifters: A Limited Edition Autumn Shifters Collection

by Lacey Carter Andersen

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  The Born Vampire Series, a reverse harem paranormal romance

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  Wolf Bait

  A Wolf Shifter Romance Novella

  Stephany Wallace

  About Wolf Bait

  Hunting Wolf Shifters is the family business… and I want nothing to do with it.

  You'd think that with living in a small town, my life would be normal. Think again. There is nothing simple about the predators that hide in the Blue Mountains, attacking unsuspecting humans and tearing them to pieces. It’s the very reason my dad and four brothers are paid the big bucks.

  Yet, to my family, there is no difference between a supernatural beast and the innocent animals that live in the forest. The head trophies on our walls are proof of that. So, I help the vet in town save all kinds of species, staying as far away from my family’s brutal killing as possible.

  Until an unexpected encounter with a mysterious, mind-numbingly sexy stranger sends my world into a whirlwind, and I end up being used as the most terrifying piece of my dad’s hunt…

  Wolf Shifter bait.

  What the readers are saying:

  Amazing read!! Family struggles, true love, and internal battles; this book, not only has it all, but will keep you laughing. ★★★★★

  "This book was hilarious! I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard reading a book before! The story also had lots of dramatic moments and steamy yumminess! Simply amazing!" ★★★★★

  "So funny and snarky that my sides hurt from laughing." ★★★★★

  "I loved this book. I was laughing so hard one minute and crying the next. A whole bunch of yumminess in one story!" ★★★★★

  "From snarks, to betrayal, to love ever after, this book had it all!" ★★★★★

  *This book is recommended for readers 16 and older due to a mysteriously sexy stranger. It may contain some sexual situations and strong language.*

  Chapter One

  ARIA

  “I hate this place. I hate this place. I hate this place…” I mumbled to myself, jumping out of Dad’s humongous truck, and slammed the door closed a little harder than needed.

  Our town was quiet early in the morning, and I kind of needed that after the day I had yesterday, but you could already see it “awakening.” Store gates lifted, lights lit up for the first time, and the smell of fresh flowers mixed with the sweet wisps coming from Ol’ Marie’s Bakery as both set their goods on the store windows—doors open wide.

  I made a mental note to grab a coffee and a pastry before heading back home. There was nothing wrong with treating yourself once in a while, and I usually waited until my month was going particularly crappy to allow myself such reward. If I made it thirty days without killing my brothers, you could bet your sweet ass I deserved a chocolate croissant and a creamy latte with extra foam.

  After taking the large black bag from the back seat, I crossed Main Street towards Billy’s House of Guns—the only hunting shop in town.

  “Morning,” I said loud enough for Billy Joe to hear me in the back, while the doorbell went into a hissy fit with my arrival.

  I hated that doorbell too.

  “Hey,” he greeted stoically, walking into the front of the shop as he finished cleaning the stock of a disassembled rifle. “Here for this months’ re-stocking?”

  “Yep.”

  “Just in time. I finished getting your father’s order ready last night.”

  Placing the tactical bag on the counter, I crossed my arms over my chest and watched Billy Joe open it, removing the different compartments from the inside. His keys rattled like Christmas bells as he unlocked the large metal cabinet behind him and began to take out our order.

  As he put the ammunition boxes for the different hunting weapons in their respective compartments, my eyes skimmed over the glass cases on the wall that displayed all kinds of lethal firearms for every animal imaginable… and the unimaginable ones too. Goosebumps broke out along my skin with the thought.

  I hated weapons.

  I hated hunting.

  I hated this store.

  Definitely a pattern there. Sigh.

  Once my gaze made it to the store windows, I caught the beginning of the buzz this time of year brought to town, and a smile made its way to my lips. My mind wandered as the volunteers hung colorful banners from the lampposts, and the first vintage truck parked in front of the Liberty Theater.

  The La Grande car show was held every year in the middle of July, and it always brought people from Portland, Boise, and many of the surrounding Oregon counties to participate and show off their vintage rides.

  La Grande was your typical picturesque American town. Filled with history and unforgettable people, it sat east of the Oregon Blue Mountains, nestled against the Wallowa-Whitman National Forest. To be fair, I didn’t really hate this place as a whole. I loved the community, the striking mountains that surrounded it, and I always looked forward to the festivities held here. It was a way to enter a different reality than the one I faced every day. A small getaway from my life.

  So basically, I just hated my life. I dreamed of leaving one day, never to return, and finally make my own path in life—one not dictated by the misogynistic beliefs of small-minded men. AKA my father and four brothers.

  But not before finding out the truth about my mother’s death.

  To me, it had always felt like it was the one thing she needed to find peace… wherever she was.

  “Here is the bag,” Billy Joe called, breaking through my train of thought. “Start loading that to the truck while I go out back to get your father’s special purchase,” he ordered. “I need the hand truck for it.”

  “Wait, what?” I stammered; eyes wide. “What the shnookerdookies did my dad order?!”

  No response.

  Arms falling to my sides, I reached for the bag on the counter, and looped the thick shoulder strap around my body, making sure everything was closed before I slowly carried it. Mother Fudger. The weight settled onto my back like I was carrying one of my brothers, but that wasn’t my first rodeo.

  Redistributing the weight on my core, I walked outside with about a thousand rounds of firepower. Yes, that was heavy as fudge for a girl, but I wasn’t your typical nineteen-year-old.

  “Good Morning, Aria!” Miss Baker, the Gossip Queen, greeted me the moment I stepped out of the gun shop. At eighty-five years old, the old lady never married, and used her abundantly free time to stick her nose into everyone else’s business.

  Nothing got by her.

  “Hi, Miss Baker. How are you this morning?” I replied politely, offering her a small smile.

  “Good, my dear. Running errands for those good-for-nothing brothers of yours again?”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle as I began to make my way to the truck. “The story of my life!” I called back. Someone else might have been offended by her comment, not me. It was the truth, at least in my eyes, and she’d been nothing but nice to me since I was little. One of the few…

  “You shouldn’t be doing men’s work,” she huffed from the other side of the street.

  “It’s okay. I got this,” I yelled. “I’ve been handling the work around the cabin since—” well, since my mother died, but I didn’t want to bring it up—“since forever. Not to mention picking up these orders every month. I’m tougher than I look,” I assured, glancing over my shoulder at her to find her smirking from the bench where she sat.

  “That you are, dear. That you are.”

  Reaching Dad’s massive ride t
hat looked more like a monster truck than a pickup, I opened the passenger door and pulled myself up by the side handles, swinging the heavy bag on my back over to the seat.

  Miss Baker shook her head as I walked back towards the shop, eyes filled with contempt. “And then they say men are the superior species,” she huffed, her eyes sweeping over Main Street—that was her favorite spot. “What are your four brothers and your father doing that they can’t come pick up their mercenary weapons themselves?”

  Sleeping, they are sleeping in, and probably drooling all over the sheets too. I answered in my mind, not wanting to add wood to the fire. It didn’t take much for gossip to travel around this place.

  “They worked until the long hours of the night. They need their strength,” I repeated the pathetic excuse they had used their entire lives. Catching my breath, I glanced into the store, but there was no sign of Billy Joe.

  “They are the men, dear. Strong and made to protect. They shouldn’t be sending a girl to deal with their dirty work.” Her bluish eyes seemed hazy with age and lessons learned, but they still held a bit of compassion for me.

  I snorted. Had she met my brothers and father?

  As I shook my head, my gaze caught movement coming from the corner. Briefly shifting my attention, I found a tall guy in a pair of black jeans and loose grey tank top that allowed a more than satisfactory view of his broad chest and back—not to mention the muscles rippling along his arms as he pulled the heavy brass door open. It was only a glimpse while he walked into the hardware store, but I was certain I hadn’t seen him around here.

  “Enjoy the view?” Miss Baker asked in a cheeky tone.

  Glancing back at her, I made a face. “Not what you are thinking. I wasn’t checking him out or anything. I just haven’t seen him before.”

  “Dear, I may be old but I’m far from stupid. I was your age once too.”

  Chuckles escaped me when she threw me a knowing look, her hands idly caressing the top of the wooden cane she held.

  “Really, I was just curious. That’s all.”

  “Now you see why I like this bench,” she added, ignoring my lame excuse. “It’s the perfect place to spot mysterious and attractive strangers.” She motioned to the short white tank top and the hip-hugging jeans I wore—leaving my belly exposed for the world to see. “I can’t understand fashion these days, but even scarcely dressed you are pretty enough. I’m sure you could catch his attention too.”

  “Thanks?” I mumbled, not sure if that had been a compliment or an insult, and threw a look over my shoulder to the hardware store. Dragging my eyes to the bakery, I sighed. “I’m going to get some coffee while I wait for Billy Joe. Would you like something, Miss Baker?”

  “Many things, dear. I’d like many things, but the key to life is patience. Fate gives us only what we need, when we need it. The rest shall come when it might.”

  “Huh?” My face scrunched up at her answer. Why were old people so weird? “Okay, so I’m going to go….” I pointed to the bakery.

  “Run along…”

  Frowning, I jogged into the little piece of heaven and bought the fattest chocolate croissant I could find, getting the coffee to go. I had already eaten breakfast, but sweets and coffee were things I could never refuse. When I got back from leaving my treats in the truck, I found Billy Joe making his way outside with the hand truck.

  “Here it is,” the man offered, rolling a gigantic box to the sidewalk with a narrow but longer one on top. “Be careful with it, its very elegant machinery. The last thing your father needs is for your clumsy woman-hands to break it before he can even use it. It cost a small fortune.”

  Hmm. Sometimes I fantasized about smacking the shnookerdookies out of people, just to see if the stupidity could be knocked out of them too.

  Biting my tongue, I reached into my back pocket, and handed him a white envelope with a stack of hundred-dollar bills father had left for me on the stove. No wonder the envelope was thicker than ever.

  Without even counting it, Billy Joe placed it in his pocket, he knew my father was good for it. “The box on top is the ammo. Be. Careful. And tell Jack and brothers thank you for their service.”

  “They are not police or military,” I scoffed at the idea of any kind of adoration towards my family.

  “They might as well be. They protect us every day!” he hissed, insulted. “It will do you good to learn your place among men, and respect them.”

  Too busy wondering what kind of ammo existed that was the size of a freaking broom, I neglected to roll my eyes at him, but Miss Baker was sure to do it for me.

  “Oh, shut your mouth and go back inside!” she scolded, glancing at me after he grumbled something and left us there. “Do you need any help, dear?”

  The smile returned to my face as I glanced at her. I doubted the frail old lady could carry anything more than her cane and today’s load of new gossip—of which I was part of, no doubt.

  “No, thanks. I’m sure I can manage… one way or the other.” I gripped the dolly and tilted it back, almost falling on my ass from the weight. No matter. I had this.

  Adjusting my stance and grip, I pushed it forwards, finally managing to steer it to the drop on the sidewalk. After rolling it with all my might across the street, I stood it close to Dad’s truck and lowered the tailgate door. The big ammo box was first, and hugging it to my chest, I lifted it onto the truck bed, half climbing on it so I could push it all the way to the back.

  The big ass box was a different story.

  After looking at it from about ten different angles, I decided my best bet was to lower the back ramp and try to roll it onto it.

  Here goes nothing… I began to push the dang thing up the single ramp. “Almost there…” I grunted, shoving it half the way. “Almost.” My teeth gritted as I gave it everything I had, only to slip backwards on the sleek metal surface.

  For a frozen second, my life flashed before my eyes. Not that I got to see anything interesting, all I had ever done was follow my father’s orders, work the home, and make my brothers’ lives easier. The last image, however, was that of me squished on the road with God only knew what that crate carried on top of me.

  “Fudge nuggets!” The scream left me as time resumed and I flew back, the box and dolly falling toward me.

  Chapter Two

  A pair of strong arms caught me instantly, yanking me out of the way, and cradling me into safety.

  Heart slamming against my ribcage, I lifted my head from the stranger’s chest, and watched over his shoulder as the metal dolly slammed backwards against the ramp. It clanged loudly, and the wooden crate slid out of it until it reached the sidewalk. Nothing happened to it. It didn’t explode, it didn’t even splinter.

  It was all very underwhelming.

  Okay, so maybe I wouldn’t have died, but I would have definitely fractured something.

  “You okay?” The deep voice seemed teasing more than concerned, and it startled me into remembering I was in someone’s arms.

  Tilting my head up, I found I was crushed against a guy’s body. Not just any guy, the muscular newcomer. Holy mother of fiddlesticks. He was freaking hot. Like a sexy volcanic eruption, sensual lava flowing all over and scorching every inch it caressed, kind of HOT. He was simmering hot. Like smoldering butter on low heat, spreading its tangy, yet sweet, and creamy deliciousness over the soft and eager pancake laying under it, wanting to be licked—crap, I wasn’t sure if he was getting me excited or hungry, but it was up there.

  The muscles of his chiseled jaw contracted and relaxed as he observed me, kind eyes roaming my face as if trying to decipher me, and for a brief second, his nostrils flared, taking me in it seemed.

  To make matters worse, every inch of me was pressed against his—chest to chest, stomach to stomach, hip to hip. Lord, have mercy.

  “I’m a vet’s assistant,” I blurted out, instead of answering his original question. My hands splayed over his strong pecs, pushing away from him but not enough for
my body to actually move. His hands gripped me firmly against him.

  “A vet??” He raised one eyebrow, light honey eyes sparkling with intrigue.

  Blinking, I realized I had said that out loud. “A vet’s assistant. My life kind of flashed before my eyes just now…” I mumbled and his lips tilted into a crooked smirk.

  “Dramatic…” he mused.

  “I know. Worst part is, I couldn’t see myself doing anything remarkable. But I just remembered I help Dr. Roberts sometimes when he’s really busy or taking a day off. So treating and saving animals makes up for the rest.”

  “That’s nice of you.”

  I shrugged, actually pushing against his chest that time so he would let me go. Nothing. “I love animals.”

  “That’s a powerful statement,” the handy stranger offered. “All kinds of animals?” He narrowed his eyes at me, like he didn’t believe me.

  “Yeah.”

  “Even snakes?”

  “You bet.”

  “What about spiders?”

  My lips twitched then; he was definitely making fun of me. “Yes, even spiders,” I replied somewhat defiantly, and unable to resist teasing him too. “Just yesterday I treated one for a life-threatening leg transplant.”

  Laughter burst out of him, his chest and abs moving against my breasts and stomach teasingly. I suddenly felt entranced—like an idiot. I was no doubt every feminist’s nightmare right then, literally swept off my feet by the guy who saved me—like some weak damsel in distress—but there was just something… overwhelming about him. His presence felt intense and all-consuming. I would even dare say dominant in the best way. It was like his pores exuded some kind of chemical that called to our animalistic nature.