by Multiple
“What about your friendship with my brother? You’d give that up to be with me. He wasn’t too thrilled to find us in bed together, not that I care what he thinks, but you guys have been friends for a long time.”
“Why do I have to give both of you up? I don’t think he’ll be as upset as you think. We can talk to him. The sooner the better. I’m not sure how much of his attention we’ll have much longer. From what I can see, he’s wrestling with some of his own demons.”
“What? What do you know that I don’t?” She peered past him, toward the house. Concern for her twin evident on her face.
He pressed his thumb between her worried brows. Smoothing them out. “Nothing bad. At least I don’t think. I have a feeling he’s in a similar boat as me. Falling for someone he doesn’t think he should. That’s his problem though. Not ours.”
Grabbing her hips he pulled her pelvis flush with his arousal. He may have cooled it earlier, but he was still hard as hell. His cock pressing against the zipper of his jeans. Anytime he was near her he couldn’t tamp down his hard-on. Her eyes snapped back to him. “Now back to us.”
He paused to study her expression, trying to gauge her reaction to being labeled ‘us’. It was completely blank as she stared back at him. Her breathing normal. The pulse beating in her neck normal. “There is an ‘us’, right?” He said it a little unsure.
Lips pursed, eyes narrowed, he wanted to squirm under her inspection. Wanted to kiss her and break the spell. Remind her how well they went together. How she came undone with a simple touch from him.
Instead he waited. Praying for her to answer with what he hoped.
Minutes passed and his nerves frayed even more.
“I forgive you,” she said softly after placing a quick kiss on his lips.
He reared his head back, bewildered by her words. He wasn’t expecting that at all.
Giggling, she threw her arms around him, knocking him flat on his back.
“I love you too Jett Montgomery-Murphy, and if you so much as think of walking away again there will be hell to pay. I don’t need Dewasa to tell me I’ve found the man and Tiger for me. You’re my mate and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
His heart sang at her words and he set out to show her how much she meant to him.
The End
About the Author
As a teenager, Brandy would spend time at her Nana and Papa’s writing angst filled stories of unrequited love. All revolving around whatever cute boy she had a crush on at the time. The stories, which no longer exist, were a way to get out the emotions bottled up inside. After a time, her interests changed and writing got left behind.
After rediscovering her love of reading, romance to be specific, story ideas starting popping up in her head. With some prodding from her friends, she decided to try her hand at writing romance and has written around ten stories in various states of completion. With a plan in place, she’s hoping to bring more of her stories to life.
Brandy is a Navy brat, prior enlisted Army, current Army wife, and mom. She lives in Washington State with her husband of 18 years, three kids and one dog.
http://www.brandywalker.net/
https://www.facebook.com/BrandyWalkerfanpage
https://twitter.com/Brandy_W
Now Available:
Tiger Nip Series
Craving More, Book 1
Claiming More, Book 2
Dallas & Kacie: Tiger Bite, Book 2.5
Freefall Series:
Caught in the Moment, Book 1
Future Releases:
Tiger Nip Series:
Finding More, Book 3
Giving More, Book 4
Seeing More, Book 5
Freefall:
Fly Guy Next Door, Book 2
Angels of the Underworld Series
Claiming More
Tiger Nip #2
Blurb:
Sampson Hart has known Mary Jane Poppy for ten years. She’s his sister’s best friend, business partner, and has had a crush on Sam for years. When the mating pull hits him, he’s ready to claim her as his own. Given their history, it should be simple. Right?
MJ has loved Sam since she was fifteen. But being a hybrid, she’s been told all her life she won’t have a mate. When Sam proclaims she belongs to him, she doesn’t believe it; the mating pull isn’t there, and Sam isn’t meant to be hers.
Running back home to escape the love she feels for Sam, MJ agrees to become the companion of a man who lost his mate and has three young children to raise. It is the only way to set Sam free to find the one he is truly meant to be with.
Will Sam be Claiming More or will the one he desires the most find comfort in the arms of another?
CLAIMING MORE is 58,098 words
Claiming More Excerpt
Sampson Hart was in deep shit. He glanced over at MJ standing across the makeshift aisle. Damn, she looked gorgeous. Her blond hair was in a fancy, twisty up-do, making her pale white skin brighter and crystal blue eyes clearer. She even put a matching blue gem in her nose piercing. The small stud glimmering when a shaft of light hit it.
The red silk of her sleeveless, short formal dress molded to her breasts and waist before flaring out at her luscious hips. If that weren’t enough to give him a raging hard-on, those killer red fuck-me heels would do the trick. What he wouldn’t give to stride over to her and claim her like his Tiger demanded. Let every person at the wedding know she was spoken for.
But he couldn’t, no matter how much of a fuss the beast within made. And wasn’t that the biggest hit to his oversexed ‘I-can-get-any-woman’ mentality. MJ, or Mary Jane as he liked to call her at times, mostly when he was talking to or about her when she was near, was his sister’s dearest and best friend. Right now, at this moment in time, they were standing steps from each other in front of a small crowd waiting for his sister Corrine to walk down the aisle. He was fairly certain his twin would skin him alive if he ruined the happiest day of her life by pouncing on the woman he so desperately wanted.
A noise from his right caught his attention. Speaking of best friends, Sam’s was standing next to him fidgeting, waves of nervous anxiety rolling off him. Jett yanked at his collar for the millionth time and hissed. “Why hasn’t she come down the aisle yet?” The poor guy was freaking out more than a cat on a catnip overdose.
“Relax man. She should be walking down any minute. You found your mate and you’re getting to marry her without me ripping your balls off being that she’s my sister. Be thankful and have some patience.”
Jett grunted in respond.
A part of him, that he liked to ignore as much as possible, was pretty fucking jealous of Jett. His best friend found his mate and after screwing up and making up a couple of times, not to mention being stalked by and dealing with a wacked out nut-job, Jett was getting what most shifters hoped to have. A mate who loved him and would put up with his dumb-ass for the rest of his life.
Sam looked back over at MJ.
Mate.
The Mating Moon
Buffy Christopher
Original Copyright © 2008 Buffy Christopher
All rights reserved. eBooks are not transferable and can not be given away, sold or shared. No portion of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, faxing, forwarded by email, recording or by any information retrieval and storage system without permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law, as this is an infringement on the copyright of this work. Brief quotations within reviews or articles are acceptable.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to a person or persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is purely coincidental.
Dedication:
For my husband, Daniel, for always standing by me no matter what and helping me through the rough s
pots.
Acknowledgements
Thank you to Tina Gerow, my editor, who has had the patience of a saint and was always willing to answer my questions.
Chapter One
Ivy pounded her fists against the firm arms that held her waist in an iron grip. As panic bubbled up inside her, she tried to scream, but the sound lodged inside her throat.
The attacker hauled her backwards easily shifting her smaller frame against his hip. Her nose itched from the scent of dirty fur and the smell of decay from the garbage that riddled the dark alley.
The half moons of his long fingernails bit into her flesh and sent a small wave of pain spearing through her stomach.
Ivy’s instincts screamed “fight,” but she could only focus on the slimy sensation of his hands on the bare skin of her stomach. Her body shook as fear clawed at her insides turning her gut into an icy knot that froze her to the bone.
Ivy couldn’t seem to string together a coherent thought. She snarled, screamed and kicked like a feral animal as her fists connected with anonymous places on her attacker’s body. Her attacker’s tight hold squeezed her harder, until she felt like her ribs had been incased in cement, and she could barely manage a half gasp of air.
With a muttered curse, he pulled her feet higher off the ground.
As she squirmed in an attempt to free herself, her heel connected with his kneecap and a dull thud sounded.
The steel bands of his arms loosened, and she seized the opportunity.
Her defense training kicked in, and she went limp in his hold.
The shift in weight threw off his center of balance and, as he adjusted his grip, Ivy’s feet hit the ground.
She hunched forward using all her strength, doubling over his arms and coiling in on herself.
Ivy reared back and swung her elbow in an upwards arch into his face. A sharp crunch accompanied a yowl of pain as Ivy connected with what she prayed was his nose.
At the same time, she kicked out, catching his leg just above the kneecap in a downward angle.
A sound like a branch snapping filled the air, and he cried out as his arms dropped away from her waist.
Ivy lost her balance and crumpled to the ground.
“Stupid bitch, you broke my nose.” The attacker cursed from somewhere behind her.
Ivy focused on getting to the entrance of the alley.
Run. Now.
Run!
Spurred into motion, she rushed toward the lighted entrance at the mouth of the alley. With the darkness around her, that entrance seemed as though it was several miles away instead of only a few yards. Panic boiled up inside her, her heart racing as her feet stumbled over the piles of rotting trash that had permeated the air with a putrid stink that was like acid to the nostrils and made her stomach roll in disapproval. She pushed on even as she feared she would never make it into the light before he caught her and forced her back into the dark.
“You can’t run from me, Ivy.” He plowed into the back of her knees collapsing her to the ground.
A short, shocked burst of a scream tumbled from her lips. The brunt of her weight landed on her knees, scraping them against the wet mucky blacktop.
The attacker scrambled up her body, and his arms locked around her waist again as she tried to push back up. He threw his weight against her back and pressed down until she fell flat onto the ground. She struggled to breathe under the burden of his heavy body even as she tried to find purchase with her hands on the slick ground to wiggle out from under him. Her nostrils flared as they filled again with the scent of wet dog fur and dirty ground. She growled inside her throat as her senses overflowed with information.
White-hot pain ripped through her, muscles stretched and Ivy’s fingers elongated. Bones popped and distorted taking on the new shape of her tiger’s paws. Muscles throbbed and cinched down, torquing her bones into unnatural shapes while agony ripped a heated path through her body with claws that tore and ripped apart her delicate flesh. Thousands of tiny needles stung her pores as fur sprouted from her skin in a tingling rush. Her attacker’s arms tightened around her shifting form.
Her clothing ripped and dropped away onto the alley floor.
Ivy stretched her claws testing the strength in her changed body. A trembling growl emanated from deep inside her throat, the animal she had become protesting the sheer terror that had invaded her brain.
With her transformation complete, she pushed up onto all four paws with a roar and bucked her attacker off her back. His hands slipped and landed in the fur near her spine, taking two fists full in his grip. He dug into her skin and it took a second time of her throwing him off to send him flying. She turned her head in time to see him bounce off the wall.
“Dammit.” The attacker steadied himself while he shook his head as if he were dazed.
Her cat had protected her, knowing before she did that she needed the help. Self-esteem bloomed inside her chest as heated warmth traveled through her limbs, and she realized now that she could protect herself.
She turned fully toward the cursing man, her chest expanding and her legs stiffening at the stench of his fear filling her nostrils as he cowered away from her.
The instinct to kill kicked in and flooded her with the desire for fresh blood, warm and rich, spilling across her tongue. Ivy snapped her teeth together.
She stalked slowly forward, anticipation firing her senses. She wanted to feel her teeth slice through the man’s skin as his hot blood hit her tongue.
The attacker pushed to his feet and backed toward the wall, his eyes widened as she stalked toward him. A new surge of fear flowed off the man in waves of acid stench and heat.
With her Were night vision she saw him perfectly in the darkness although she did not recognize him. He was clean-cut and appeared military. In fact, he wore a uniform of some sort that she didn’t recognize. Being able to only see in grey scale in her tiger form made it difficult to tell what kind of uniform he wore.
Her mind churned as she struggled to get used to the awakened senses of her new body.
Ivy growled low and lethal as she bared her fangs at him.
Power vibrated through her in this form, and she could rip his throat out in a single motion. Anticipation curled inside her belly, even though some small place inside her brain recoiled against bringing death to the weakened animal in front of her.
A strong ammonia smell hit the air, assaulting the delicate hairs inside Ivy’s nose.
The man blanched as she continued forward, cornering him against the wall of the dark rank alley.
Pride and amusement swelled inside her chest as she realized he’d pissed himself.
Her tiger wanted to dismantle the man piece by piece until he was nothing but bloody shreds of meat between her teeth.
Ivy’s world shifted, blurring her vision and making her head swim.
She tasted blood, rich and spicy on her tongue, matting her fur, slick and wet. A mangled body lay on the ground in front of her covered in dark black splotches. Small lines of blood ran from wounds in the throat.
She stopped in her tracks, blinked and realized the attacker still cowered in front of her. Not dead, but very much alive.
Anger surged through her hot and bright.
Ivy swiped at the man with her large orange paws, batting him against the wall like a child’s toy. He grunted as he hit the wall with a loud thud.
He wasn’t so strong now that he couldn’t terrorize her petite human form. Adrenaline surged through Ivy’s body causing a fire of bloodlust to explode inside her brain.
She stopped in front of him and crouched. She threw her head back and roared, a loud and feral noise that hurt her own ears. One swipe was all it would take to kill him. One paw, claws extended, ripped across his jugular, his skin tearing apart like tissue paper and he would be dead.
Instead, he paled as she swiped at him again and her claws tore open his shirt. With an Oof, the breath rushed out o
f his lungs as he hit the red bricks again. His eyes rolled back in his head before his body slid down the wall like his form was made of Jell-O instead of bone and muscle. His head landed in a puddle of dirty sludge.
The attacker’s body lay motionless on the wet ground. Ivy’s brain raced as her tiger screamed for the taste of blood, but her human side disagreed, trying to keep a tight grip on the tiger side of her personality. She growled deep inside her throat, a purr of pleasure at having defeated him.
He had passed out and she considered it a personal victory that she could affect him enough to make him lose consciousness. That wasn’t enough for the tiger, though, it still wanted blood.
Ivy padded closer to the body and nudged it with her nose. When the man did not move, she swiped her claws down his chest enjoying the resistance of the soft flesh.
When she pulled her paw back, there were rips in the already tattered uniform shirt. Blood welled from the wound and dark splotches began to stain the shirt.
Ivy lowered her head and sniffed. The rich spicy tang of coppery blood filled her senses. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth and she lapped at the wound.
As her tongue touched the hot liquid, the small voice inside her head screamed, “No!”
The tiger inside her raised its head as if it sensed danger.
She backed away, licking her lips. The copper taste was exactly what she wanted. She wanted more.
The sound of a siren flooded the night, hurting her sensitive tiger’s ears. The sirens were getting louder, coming closer.
Ivy’s fight-or-flight response kicked in and she ran.
The darkness of the city enveloped her as she stretched her legs and allowed her tiger free reign.
Her muscles burned making her body hum inside. She was so free and wild. So right. The growing warmth through her heart and the lightness in her head was a sure sign of her adrenaline-drenched joy.