Lone Wolf

by Tessa Clarke

  Thanks so much!

  ~Tessa

  About the Author

  I write sizzling stories about shifters, love, and finding that happily ever after. I firmly believe in the restorative power of a good romance (and chocolate). Visit my website to learn more about my books: www.tessaclarke.com.

  You can email me at tessaclarkeauthor@gmail.com or follow me on Twitter at @tessacclarke.

  Excerpt from Freefall: Book One in the Cat Shifters of White Peaks

  Freefall: Cade and Alissa’s Story

  the Cat Shifters of White Peaks: Book One

  Click Here to Buy

  Chapter One: Alissa

  “Yes, Mike, I promise I’ll make a decision on the job by Monday. I really appreciate the offer, and thanks so much for showing me around White Peaks yesterday. It’s a beautiful little town.”

  Alissa Grey swung her long dark hair over her shoulder and ended the call. Sunlight streamed in her rented condo windows and the slopes of White Peaks Ski Resort sparkled with fresh snow outside.

  She really didn’t know what to do about the job offer. It was a great position and White Peaks seemed like a nice place, but her friends were in Denver and she wasn’t really sure if there was any reason to move, aside from the skiing perhaps, which she planned to check out today.

  On the other hand, it wasn’t like there was a man holding her in Denver. Not after Hugh announced that he had to “find himself” and it turned out that he started his search with her skinny co-worker Janice, who was a full-fledged psychiatrist, not just a psychologist like Alissa. He probably just figured he could get free psychoanalysis. Of course, what Hugh didn’t know was that Janice dipped liberally into the medicine cabinet and prescribed herself all sorts of psychotropic drugs. That was why she was so thin. Half the time she was so high on Ativan that she forgot to eat.

  Whatever. Alissa didn’t care. They deserved each other. She’d had vibrators that were better lovers than Hugh. Maybe moving to White Peaks would be a fresh start. But she’d miss Zoey and Jolene, her best friends, so much.

  As if on cue, her phone rang and Zoey’s name flashed up on the screen.

  “Hey babe,” Alissa drawled.

  “You know it,” Zoey responded with a snort. After years of bemoaning their inability to find sexy and caring men with whom to share their lives, and blaming themselves for not being attractive enough, Zoey, Jolene, and Alissa had decided, based on Alissa’s professional counseling, to stop with the negative self-talk, call themselves babes, and blame the men for not seeing their inner, and outer, beauty. So far, to Alissa’s surprise, it actually seemed to be working, at least on their self-esteem. None of them had a man yet.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Just calling to see if you’re leaving us,” Zoey said.

  “I’ll never leave you, even if I do move. But I doubt it, Zo, I can’t see anything that would keep me here.”

  “Not even the hot skiers.”

  “I haven’t met any of those yet. I’ll keep you posted.”

  “Just remember to sashay.”

  “Oh I will, don’t worry.” Alissa covered the faint sob that accompanied Zoey’s reminder with a cheerful tone. When they’d started calling themselves the babes, they’d also agreed that big girls had every right to sashay as skinny girls—both in attitude and when they walked. But as much as she’d put it into practice, it hadn’t seemed to yield any results. She was still here alone, wishing she had someone to wake up next to her, laugh with her, touch her body in wicked, pleasure-filled ways, and join her on the slopes.

  “Do you think we’ll know Liss, when we meet the one? Like they know,” Zoey’s voice was wistful.

  Alissa pictured her gorgeous little blond, buxom friend who could shift into a stunning lynx with tufted ears and a tawny coat. “Well, you might. You’re a full shifter. But I just have shifter blood, so I doubt it. I certainly haven’t felt any sort of tingling or sense of certainty or anything with any man I’ve met so far.” What would it feel like to know your mate, she wondered. To just know for sure that you had met the one that would be forever. It must be a relief, she decided. Better than sitting in darkened bars with men, trying to make conversation, and figure out who they really were inside, while they stared at her tits.

  “Maybe it’s just because we haven’t met the right men yet.”

  “Maybe.”

  Alissa said goodbye to Zoey, fastened the clasp on her helmet, and placed her skis on her shoulder, giving herself a little pep talk as she headed out the door. She’d skied alone lots of times before. There was no reason to be sad about it. She’d make a great day of it in the foot of fresh powder and gorgeous sunshine. She just wished sometimes that she didn’t have to do so many things by herself.

  The sunshine caught the bright glow of her new white ski suit. It had been a bit of a splurge and was very flashy, but it hugged her curves in all the right places, and besides, she had the skiing ability to pull it off.

  Sashay, she reminded herself as she walked. Except it was a little hard to sashay in ski boots. Fortunately, this thought made her almost laugh and she exited the condo building into the brilliant blue sky day with a smile on her face and a small ember of anticipation in her heart.

  Chapter Two: Cade

  Cade leaned forward on his skis as he waited in front of the ski school by the black diamond sign. It had snowed all night and people thronged all around him, scrambling to snap on their gear and hit the powder under a glorious blue sky. If Cade hadn’t already had fresh tracks with the White Peaks ski patrol before the lifts opened he’d be feeling pretty impatient about waiting for his group to arrive. His group today was supposed to be expert level, so Cade was hoping he could get some sweet turns of his own in on some of his favorite runs, but he’d learned a long time ago that some tourists were liberal in classifying themselves as expert, so he never really knew what he was going to get. Hopefully they all knew how to keep the slippery side of their skis on the snow and they’d get some decent runs in. Otherwise Cade would have to get by on the glory of the knee-deep powder of his first run and his potential conquests in the bar later.

  He surreptitiously checked his appearance in the window of the ski school. Lime green helmet, mirrored goggles, and blue jacket with a thatch of his dark hair visible beneath the helmet. Skiing, with all the gear it required, was hardly the place to look one’s sexiest, but Cade was reasonably pleased with the results. It was time for him to start thinking seriously about finding a mate. Someone to wake up with, curl his body around, and make late for work as they both fulfilled their needs. He felt a frisson of arousal as he thought about the sweet hot little mate that he was looking for. He’d enjoyed the bar scene with its parade of ski bunnies, only too eager to spend time with the best ski pro on the mountain, but he was ready for something with more meaning. Someone with more meaning. His cock hardened at the prospect.

  He knew that other shifters often knew their mates at first sight, by smell or by some sort of instinct—his buddy Dylan who was the head of ski patrol at White Peaks insisted that was the case—but Cade wasn’t sure if he would. He’d known many women, cared for many women, but none of them had called out to him in any way like he hoped this true mate would.

  Three men had pulled up on their skis in front of him wearing smiles of greeting. Cade did the customary flick of assessment, checking out the type of skis they were wearing, the nicks and marks on the tips of the skis, the quality and age of the rest of their gear, and their stance in their boots. Nine times out of ten he could peg their skill level in five seconds. He let out a small sigh of relief and flashed them a friendly smile. These guys looked decent. They only had to wait for one more.

  He was exchanging pleasantries with the men—all programmers from the Silicon Valley who had grown up in Utah—when a woman skied up and offered a tentative smile. She wore all white and stood almost as tall as Cade, her thick dark hair spilling over her shou
lders. She was solidly built and curvy in all the right places. He opened his mouth to ask if she was lost when she raised her white goggles in greeting, revealing a pair of almost golden eyes surrounded by long dusky eyelashes. Cade’s words caught in his throat as he struggled to remember what he was planning to say. Something about her looking for her group, about offering to help her find them. But the words were gone. Those eyes. They were almost… Her flash of white teeth put him further off guard.

  “Cade Danforth?” she said extending a mitted hand. “I’m Alissa Grey. I’m in your group.”

  “Right. Welcome,” Cade stuttered taking her hand and trying to ignore the jolt of energy he felt, mitt to mitt no less, and trying to process why this drop-dead gorgeous woman in a white ski suit would be in his group. He skied with the experts, which were usually twenty- and thirty-something men with skiff of facial hair and twin-tipped, rockered, fat skis. He glanced down at her skis and was surprised to see a pair of wide, rockered Blizzards, this year’s model, no less. Everything she was wearing looked new. Nobody could keep a white ski suit that white, unless this was its first wearing. She was probably a rich gear-head with no idea how to ski. Bold though, stepping out in that much ski. The white ski suit even had a black fur-trimmed hat. Still, he could take her up for one run, chat her up a bit, and then after she saw how out-classed she was, nicely help her switch groups to Rosalee’s intermediates or Fred’s beginners, and maybe see if she was hanging out in the bar later. Unfortunately that meant not taking them down the trees of Sweet Steeps their first run, which would mean trying to catch some of the remaining pockets of untouched powder later. But this kind of thing happened, and he was a professional.

  He gave the group his toothy ski-pro smile and gestured over to the high-speed six pack. “All right. We’d better get into line. Powder doesn’t wait for anyone.” He watched Alissa’s stance as she skated over to the lift lineup. He had to admit, she didn’t look in the slightest bit uncomfortable on skis, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her ass.

  In the lineup, he concentrated on continuing to chat up the three programmers while Alissa seemed content to stand quietly on his left. Maybe if he talked up the difficulty of the runs they were going to be taking while they were on the lift, she’d decide to switch groups on her own. Although he was largely ignoring her, he found his entire body all too aware of her presence, his cock pressing quite attentively against his ski pants, and his emotions a jangle of nerves. When they were almost at the front of the line, he turned to her. “Need any help getting on the lift?”

  The look of disgust she gave him was almost comical.