by Jane Jamison
Werebears of Shatland, Texas 1
Her Bear Lovers
Independent, strong Mayla Weaton thinks Romeo and Juliet had it easy. At least they never had to deal with men changing into animals. Soon after finding out that shifters really exist, she realizes she’s in love with three werebears. She manages to accept their furry counterparts, but how can she keep her father from skinning her lovers and hanging their hides on the wall?
Werebears Jadon, Curt, and Josh Barberson find their mate at the barrel end of a loaded rifle. Their choices? Either give her up or attack her father to keep her with them. Their inner Grizzlies are all for making her father turn tail and run, but either choice means they could lose Mayla.
Then when the werewolves of Forever, Texas, stick their muzzles into the mix, things really get hairy. Can’t a bear take a mate without everyone trying to tear them apart?
Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Paranormal, Shape-shifter
Length: 46,602 words
HER BEAR LOVERS
Werebears of Shatland, Texas 1
Jane Jamison
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED: Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer.
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
If you find a Siren-BookStrand e-book being sold or shared illegally, please let us know at
[email protected]
A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
HER BEAR LOVERS
Copyright © 2014 by Jane Jamison
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62741-442-5
First E-book Publication: March 2014
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2014 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
If you have purchased this copy of Her Bear Lovers by Jane Jamison from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.
Regarding E-book Piracy
This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.
The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.
This is Jane Jamison’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Jamison’s right to earn a living from her work.
Amanda Hilton, Publisher
www.SirenPublishing.com
www.BookStrand.com
DEDICATION
Dear Reader,
The Werebears of Shatland, Texas is a spin-off series to my popular Werewolves of Forever, Texas series. The more books I wrote for the werewolf series—twelve and counting!—the more I kept envisioning the stories and characters of Shatland. It seemed only natural for the werebears to have their own set of books. What else could I do, but bring their stories to life?
Happy reading,
Jane Jamison
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Epilogue
About the Author
HER BEAR LOVERS
Werebears of Shatland, Texas 1
JANE JAMISON
Copyright © 2014
Chapter One
“Damn it!” Mayla Weaton kept the rifle to her shoulder a minute or two after the shot faded away.
Yeah, as if holding the gun up will do any good.
“Wow, sis, you suck today.”
Sibling rivalry at its finest.
She loved her brother John, but sometimes she wanted to slap him upside his head. That kind of “love pat” wouldn’t shut him up, but at least it’d make her feel better. A little bit, anyway. Instead, she opted for a more conventional, albeit less satisfying, response.
“Go sit on a stick, John-John.” As she’d known it would, calling him by his childhood nickname struck a nerve. He grunted, but didn’t hit her with a comeback.
“Okay, you two.” Her father, William Weaton, chastised her, but didn’t bother hiding his smirk. “Take it easy. Not every shot hits the mark.”
Mayla lowered her rifle to the crook of her arm and glowered at her brother. It didn’t help that he’d already bagged two quail to her none.
John was fourteen months older, but acted like he was ten years younger than her twenty-eight years. She had to admit that sometimes she wasn’t much better. Once they were around her father, they often reverted to the squabbling teenagers they’d once been.
Her family enjoyed going throughout Texas to find different locations to hunt. They’d often ask ranchers if they could use their land and many agreed, understanding a hunter’s need to explore new territory. That and a little cash on the side.
Although their hunting trips had started out as anything but fun, the Weaton family had continued to do them, coming to treat them like mini-vacations. They’d taken up hunting trips after her mother died of cancer when she was eighteen. Until then, Mayla hadn’t cared to hold a gun, much less shoot anything. Maybe it was an odd way of going about it, but hunting had released the anger she’d felt at the world for losing her mother.
Ten years later, the anger had mellowed into a dull ache that would never go away. Not a morning passed when Mayla didn’t think of her mother. Mornings had been their special time together, just “us two girls,” and she missed it more than she could say. Although she, her father, and her brother were still a close-knit trio, a gaping hole remained that Mayla knew could never be filled.
Of course, the best part of hunting was spending time with her family. As an attorney living in Austin, she tried to get home to Amarillo as often as she could to see her father and brother, but it wasn
’t easy. Still, no matter what, she never missed the quail hunting season that started in late October. The weather was still sunny, warm enough to go without a jacket.
She and John had always been competitive and today was no exception. The flash of gray between two rocks caught her eye. “I can still shoot better than you can on your best day.”
“Prove it.”
She loved it when John walked right into her trap. “Don’t move, brother dear. I wouldn’t want you to get snakebit.”
His eyes widened the second she lifted her rifle and pulled the trigger. John’s upper body jerked, but he stayed rooted to the spot.
“Damn it, sis. You’re going to shoot my foot off one of these days.”
She sauntered past him, picked up the dead snake with a long stick, then balanced it as she held it out to her brother. “Which would you rather I do? Shoot the snake or let it bite your sorry ass? Good thing my aim’s better than you think it is.”
Her father laughed. “When will you learn, son? Your sister’s fearless and a damn fine shot. Good thing for you.”
“Did you know the snake was there, Pops?” John edged away from her. “Damn it, sis, put that thing down.”
She tossed the snake away.
“Hey, do you two remember the time she walked into the bear exhibit at the zoo? Damn near gave me a heart attack and I wasn’t even there. As I recall…”
She and John shared a smile. Although they’d heard the story a thousand times, they wouldn’t interrupt their father if he wanted to tell it a thousand times more.
“The zookeeper hadn’t latched the gate leading into the bears’ pen after he’d gone to get more food. As a mischievous and too-curious-for-her-own-good child of six, your sweet sister was always wandering off from her mother. You remember how much your mother loved bears, right? Said she had a real affinity to them, although I never understood what she meant.”
But Mayla understood. Like her mother, she’d always liked bears. And just like her mother, she’d collected anything and everything that had a bear on it. The second bedroom in her apartment was filled with bear pillows, bear figures, stuffed bears, and more. There was just something about the animals that tugged at her. If she believed in reincarnation, she’d pray that she’d come back as a bear.
Mayla lifted her hand to the back of her neck. She couldn’t feel the tattoo, but she liked to think she could. Touching the small bear tattoo was one way of her keeping her mother’s memory alive. That and listening to her father tell his stories. As it always did, thinking about her mother brought both tears and bittersweet memories.
“Anyway, Mayla found her way into the back area of the exhibit and let herself into the bears’ pen. Her mother, as brave as her little girl, calmly notified the negligent zookeeper, and while he distracted the bears, your mother walked into the pen, scooped Mayla up, and took her out. Neither one of them had gotten frightened. And, blast it all, neither one of them bothered telling me. I’ll never forget finding out about it on the local news that night. I had to sit down before I fell down.”
“I remember that day, Dad. Mom didn’t scold me or anything. She even bought me a stuffed bear at the gift shop.”
“I’ll never understand why the two of you liked bears so much.” He shook his head in wonder. “Well, enough stories. Let’s see if you have any better luck over the rise.”
As much as she liked his stories, she was glad that he’d stopped. If not, she was afraid the ever-present pain would grow stronger and overwhelm her.
She loved the way her father looked as he stood, feet apart, rifle resting on both forearms. At sixty-two, he was strong, athletic, and could put men half his age to shame. The latter wasn’t just bragging. She’d seen him do it.
“You two go on. I’ve got to dump a pebble out of my boot.” She wanted a little alone time, time to swallow back the tears that had started to form. Crying in front of her father wouldn’t have been right. Why make him feel the burden of her loss? He had his own to deal with.
“We can wait,” offered her dad.
“No. Go on.” She glanced at her brother, then adopted a distressed expression for her dad’s benefit. “Um, I need to use the ladies’ room.” Which, of course, meant she’d have to squat in front of them.
As she’d expected him to do, her father grimaced. All she had to do was mention anything about toilets, or worse, a female bodily function, and he’d get gone as fast as he could.
She checked her gun, then listened as they exchanged lighthearted banter while marching up the small rise. Sighing, she looked up at the sun and wished that it was higher in the sky. Today was one of those few days when she’d rather have stayed home and painted her nails. And she loathed painting her nails as much as her mother had. That was probably why her aim was off.
Until the snake, that is.
Remembering John’s startled expression, she smiled and took her time to go through the motions of actually having a pebble in her boot, even going so far as to check and retie her boots. All at once, she straightened up. A tickle of unease zipped up her spine as though something was about to happen.
Weird.
She didn’t believe in a sixth sense, but she did believe in instincts. And her gut told her she wasn’t wrong. But what was it?
In the next instant, she knew something very large was heading her way at a dead run. The flash of silver-tipped brown she caught out of the side of her eye came and went, transforming into tanned skin right before she turned her head to see what it was.
The impact was rough, ramming into her like a defensive end for a pro football team. Her gun went flying and her feet lost their purchase with the ground. The world spun around her, then all at once, she was on her back, her breath knocked out of her.
The bang of her gun came next, but she barely heard it. Instead, she blinked once, then twice, trying to get her blurred vision to clear.
Hell and damnation! What happened?
When her sight finally came back to normal, she stared up at the man who lay on top of her. His chest, harder than any rock she’d ever thrown at her brother, pushed against her breasts. Heat, the kind that came from deep inside her, whipped around her abdomen. Her gaze flowed up to wider-than-humanly-possible shoulders. He gawked down at her, his soulful brown eyes locked to hers. Strange bits of amber colored them.
She liked his face. More than liked it. Strong jaws sported the rugged kind of stubble she’d always found sexy. His blond hair was shaved, giving him that bald-but-not-really-bald appearance that she found attractive. If he hadn’t had his hands on either side of her arms, capturing them to her sides, she would’ve run her palm over his head, then let it glide down to skim over his stubble.
Although his face was mesmerizing, she couldn’t help but drop her gaze down again to scour over that godlike chest and see what she might find below. He was, after all, naked, and by her way of thinking, just asking for it.
“What’re you doing out here?”
His voice matched the rest of him, masculine, eliciting a reaction from her that shook her to her core. Sensations she hadn’t known existed sprang to life in every inch of her, even more so between her legs. But it was more than attraction, more than the pounding of her heart. She drew in a breath, taking in his unusual scent. Was it musk? Were pheromones kicking in big-time? His aroma was different. Musky, yes, but tinged with a spiciness she couldn’t identify.
She jerked her eyes back to his. “Hold up. I could ask you the same thing. Especially since you’re running around butt naked.”
She should’ve been terrified, but she wasn’t. Even though he was naked and obviously strong, she didn’t pick up the feeling that he was dangerous. In fact, she sensed quite the opposite.
He glanced to the right and saw her rifle. “You’re a hunter?”
“No. I just like the feel of cold, hard steel in my hands.”
If he got her sarcastic joke, he didn’t show it.
She wasn’t afraid, but that
didn’t mean she shouldn’t be cautious. That included getting back on her feet.
“Look, Tarzan, I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m not answering anything until you get off me.”
“My name’s not Tarzan.”
She almost laughed at his confusion. Was he simpleminded? Or simply clueless when it came to humor?
“Get off me.”
“Nope.”
Was he joking now? At last, alarm tickled the back of her neck.
“What do you mean ‘nope’?”
“Don’t want to.”
From his stilted speech, she wondered if she should’ve called him Tonto. “Look, big guy—”
“Name’s Josh.”
She tried to squirm out of his hold, then felt the brush of his cock against her leg. Her jeans couldn’t hide his hardness, but worse, her jeans hadn’t stopped the quick bolt of electricity zapping into her. The sensation both confused and excited her.
Maybe she should play nicer until she could get away. After all, a man running around in his birthday suit had to be a card short of a full deck. Which answered her earlier question.
He’s simpleminded. Or a pervert.
“Please, Josh. I’d really like for you to get off me now.” Instead of fighting to get free, she lay still, hoping not to brush up against him again. He might take it as an invitation.
She gritted her teeth and told herself to keep that in mind. And yet, when they’d touched for that brief moment, she’d gotten a sizzle from him. Like when a person walks across carpet in socks then touches someone and gives them a shock. Except this sizzle was a lot stronger and went straight for the part of her that was already heating up.