Tala Ridge Alpha has Published!

The Tala Ridge Shifters:

A New Series

Tala Ridge Alpha, the first book in the Tala Ridge Shifters series, has published!

It took a while to write this one. Terrell Pace is one of my favorite characters in the Texas Ranch Wolf Pack Series. He's the young wolf whose father tried to force to mate Princess Ophelia. 

After he was caught, King Nathanial and his wolf, Koreth, walked the boy's mind. Realizing that Terrell was following the orders of his father (and alpha), King Nathanial dismissed the charges against the boy.

Terrell was given the alpha position over his father's pack. This is detailed in Wolf's Enemy and Wolf's Quest. He also had a walk-on role in Wolf's Guard and is mentioned in Wolf's Duty.

The Tala Ridge Shifters series is the young adult story of how a young teen-aged boy handles being alpha, the leader of a wolf pack when terrible secrets are revealed.

Blurb

Wolf shifter children attend human public school for the first time. What could go wrong?

With the king’s tentative approval, Terrell, the youngest wolf shifter alpha in the world, sends the pack children to public school after Child Protection Services investigates the ranch for never registering their kids.

But Terrell’s concern over attending school with human students is overshadowed with worries for their safety when he finds other shifters attending the school.

Buck, the future alpha of the outcast pack, isn’t happy when outside wolves start attending his school. 

Who are they? 

How does their presence affect his pack?

When the two teen-aged alphas collide, who wins? Who loses?

Preview: First Three Chapters

Chapter 1

La Veta County Sheriff Cole Jameson absently picked up his coffee cup and sipped. Cold. Making a face, he set it down, the ceramic cup thumping on his ancient wooden desktop. Glancing at the door to the front office, he called, “Mitch, that new pot ready?”

Deputy Mitch Vaine leaned into the sheriff’s office and grinned. The deputy’s straight, even teeth, boyish good looks, and meticulously combed hair paid homage to his last name. “Almost, Boss!”

Cole shook his head when Mitch disappeared back into the front office and sighed before turning back to the BOLO he received from the Colorado Bureau of Investigation, a warrant for a gang of three bank robbers headed south from Denver. So far, the perpetrators hit four banks. Two bank employees and one police officer sustained gunshot wounds in their last robbery.

The words on the BOLO faded as his mind wandered. Again. Since he escorted Micah Bird to the Tala Ridge Ranch for a CPS complaint, he’d found keeping his mind on his duties difficult at best.

Werewolves! In his county! And they’d been there for years. Even before the town was founded in 1886.

He heard the front door open and shut but left it to his deputies to see what whoever it was wanted. “Jameson! Where’s Jameson?”

He’d never forget that thunderous voice. He winced at the fury in Commander Terrence Bird’s roar, stood, and walked to the office door. Deputy Lincoln Stiles’ large form blocked Bird’s path to the office. “Sir, you need to calm down.”

“I want to see Jameson, right now!”

Tucking his thumbs in his holster belt, Cole tilted his head and narrowed his gaze at his former CO. Dressed in fatigues, combat boots, and a heavy jacket and black cap dusted with snow, all the SEAL commander needed to be combat-ready were his weapons.

Realizing the commander knew he and Micah were dating, Cole sighed. “Commander.”

Bird’s sharp eyes speared him. If looks could kill, the sheriff would be a pile of broken bones and goo. Refusing to be cowed by the man’s obvious anger, he jerked his head toward his office. Cole sighed. “Why don’t we take this somewhere more private?”

Lips pressed tight, shoulders bunched, Bird slapped aside the short gate separating the front office desks from the waiting area and walked past Deputy Stiles, brushing the man’s shoulder. Cole raised an eyebrow. There weren’t many men as big as Commander Bird, but Stiles matched him inch for inch, with one or two to spare. The dispatcher and the rest of Cole’s deputies watched wide-eyed. His former CO stopped a foot in front of Jameson, hands on his hips. 

Cole met his gaze, then jerked his head toward his office door. “Have a seat, Commander. I’ll get us some coffee.”

Wordless, Bird shoved past him and walked to the visitor’s chair. Now that the commander wasn’t glaring at him, Cole took a quiet, deep breath, then blew it out. He glanced at Vaine. “Coffee ready, yet?”

“No, Sir. It’ll be another five minutes or so.”

Cole nodded. “Bring us two cups, black, when it’s done. Otherwise, y’all get busy.”

Ignoring the scamper to find something to do, he turned his back on his deputies, took another deep breath, and blew it out. Closing the door behind him, he walked to his desk and sat. “Morning, Commander.”

Bird leaned forward, askew elbows resting on the arms of his old-fashioned wooden chair. “What the blazes do you think you’re doing, Jameson?”

“You spoke with Micah?”

“Nah, Mom told me. Said you’ve been keeping company with Micah since before Christmas.”

“Yeah, well, that’s true.” Jameson fixed Bird in a level stare. “I won’t hurt her, Sir. I’m serious about our relationship.”

Bird tensed. “If you’re just...”

“I’m not.” Cole opened his top desk drawer and pulled out a small box. “If she’ll have me, I plan to marry her.”

Taking a deep breath, Bird visibly forced himself to relax. He glanced at the midnight blue ring box, then raised his gaze to his Navy friend. “Tell me.”

“I accompanied her to a CPS visitation before Christmas. She was pretty shook up by everything that happened. Afterwards, we had a meal and started talking. We had coffee the next day, and since then we’ve met for coffee or a meal almost every day.”

Cole shrugged. “I know it’s quick, but I love her, Terry. I’ll never purposely do anything to hurt her.”

Bird sighed away some of his anger. “I wanted her to find a safe guy, you know. Someone not likely to leave in the morning and die before coming home. Not a soldier.” He glared at Cole. “And not a cop!”

“I know.” Cole fisted his coffee cup and stared at the cold coffee. “I didn’t plan it, Terry, it just happened.”

“Because she got upset about that CPS visit? What happened?”

Cole hesitated. The pack alpha had decided the command to keep them secret placed on him years ago in Oregon was good enough. He thought he could talk about the local pack, but he wasn’t sure he should. Chewing the right corner of his bottom lip, he glanced out the only window in his office. “You know I can’t talk about that, Terry.”

“Yeah. That’s what Micah said. But she’s hiding something from me, Cole. Something that scares her. What is it?”

Rubbing an itch above his left eye, Cole opened his mouth, then snapped it shut when a sharp tap sounded on the door. “Sheriff? Coffee got done quicker than I expected.”

“Hold that thought.” Cole stood and walked to the door, opened it, then took both cups from his deputy. “Shut the door, Vaine.”

With a nod, the deputy pulled the door shut. Cole carried the coffee to the desk and set a cup in front of Micah’s brother. “Here you go. Black and strong enough to float horseshoes, since Deputy Vaine made it.”

The commander’s large hand lifted the cup. He sipped, then winced and nodded. “I think you could walk on that.”

Cole grinned. “Boy’s talented when it comes to coffee.”

Bird snickered, then his face settled back into a tight expression. “Just tell me if there’s something I need to be worried about, Cole.”

The automatic denial refused to leave Cole’s lips. He sighed and moved aside the first, cold cup of coffee to make room for the second hot one. “Terry, I can’t tell you anything, but I promise I’ll do everything in my  power to make sure she stays safe.”

“Meaning there’s something to worry about.”

Cole studied Terry’s worried eyes. “You remember Nate Rollins? Lieutenant-Colonel, Marines, Brighton’s Elite Unit?”

Bird blinked. “Sure. What about him?”

“He says everything is cool. He’ll keep everything safe.”

“Marines are involved in one of Micah’s cases?”

“No.” Cole tried a different direction. “You ever meet Captain Waylon Rickles?”

All expressions left Terry’s face. “I did. What’s he have to do with this?”

“You ever see him...” Cole grimaced at the pain erupting in his head. Pain warning him to stop talking. Aware of his former CO’s tense consideration, Cole sighed. “Never mind.”

“You know.”

“What?”

“You know about Rickles.”

Cole’s gaze snapped to Terry. “Rickles is a...” He couldn’t force out the word.

Soundlessly, Bird mouthed, “Shifter.”

Face pale, Cole stood and swayed for a moment. Walking to the door, he turned and glanced at Terry. “I’ll be right back.”

Closing the door behind him, he marched across the outer office, ignoring Stiles’ heavy frown and the questioning looks from the other officers. Stepping out on the sidewalk, he pulled the door shut, then walked to the alley. With shaking fingers, he pressed the Tala Ridge Ranch button on his cell.

“Tala Ridge Ranch, Dusty speaking.”

“This is Sheriff Jameson. I need to see Nate and Terrell right away.”

Chapter 2

The alpha of the Tala Ridge Wolf Pack, twelve-year-old Terrell Pace, thirteen next week, he reminded everyone, tossed a baseball to his beta, Josh Tatlow. Mind busy considering the ramifications of King Nathaniel being called back to the ranch, he almost missed Josh’s return throw. His lightweight denim jacket more than enough to keep him warm, he took a deep, snow- and pine-scented breath and tossed the ball back to Josh. Most of his pack was still indoors, kids enjoying the warmth of the fireplace while playing games or reading, and the women preparing a communal meal for the evening.

The men and teens worked in the fields, feeding cows and horses, or chopping wood for the fireplace. Terrell found himself in the unenviable position of having nothing to do. Every time he decided to do something productive, one of the adults swooped in to do it for him. Ainle whined in the back of his mind, sympathetic but not knowing what to do to change things. “Ugh!”

“What’s wrong?” When Terrell didn’t throw the ball and didn’t answer, Josh walked to him. “Want to talk about it?”

“They won’t let me do anything!”

Surprise flashed on Josh’s face. “Like what?”

“Anything! Chores!”

Josh laughed and sauntered over to an old stump. Wiping the snow off, he sat and studied his alpha. “You know you’re like the king of your kingdom, right?”

Terrell dropped his glove and ball next to his boot and kicked a snowdrift. Shoulders hunched, he shoved his hands in his front jeans pockets. “So?”

“Well, it was before my time here, but I’ve heard talk. What would have happened if your father started doing something and someone didn’t jump to take it over?”

Understanding washed over Terrell and he looked up. “They were punished for making him do it.”

“So…”

Sighing, Terrell gazed down the dirt road that led to the ranch gate. “So, they still don’t know me well enough to know if I’ll do the same thing.”

“Right.” Scooping up a handful of snow, Josh molded it into a ball, then tossed it into the air. “And since Nate gave you your dad’s power, you’re more powerful than any wolf here, including Dusty.”

Terrell huffed. He wasn’t at all sure he was more powerful than Dusty, his regent. Nate assigned Dusty as pack regent and guardian to Terrell until he reached eighteen. It hadn’t taken Terrell long to realize that power wasn’t everything. Courage, skill, and cunning played a huge role in almost every aspect of pack governance. Abilities Terrell hoped to learn from his guardian, someday.

He stared at his feet, his too-short jeans leaving too much sock showing. Receiving his father’s alpha power, then facing vampires in the attack on the King’s pack had forced early puberty on Terrell. The challenge battle to keep his position and title intensified his growth spurt. In the past two weeks, he’d grown at least four inches in height. The growth spurt had him tripping over his own feet at times. And his bones ached most of the time. He’d be glad when the growing stopped for a while. His feet were shod in Dusty’s extra, too-long shoes because his own no longer fit, and unlike his jeans, he couldn’t just pull them up higher.  He didn’t recognize himself in the mirror either, his face longer and narrower than he remembered it being. Even his shoulders were wider, enough that he had to wear some of Dusty’s shirts.

He looked older than his years, too. Samantha and Larissa, the only two teen girls on the ranch started following him around, whispering and giggling. He sighed. His fated mate already found, their whispers and giggles did little more than annoy him. And since he couldn’t tell anyone yet about her, there was little he could do to dissuade them. But when school started, the giggles and whispers would be more about his unfitting clothing than the new maturity he showed.

“Know what? I’m going to have Nettie or Dusty take me shopping for new clothes tomorrow. Want to come?”

“Sure. It’s my job to go where you go.” When Terrell rolled his eyes and huffed, Josh laughed. “Anyway, I need some new clothes, too. Gramma said I don’t have enough for school.”

“Hmm. She’s probably right. I don’t think any of the kids have enough. Maybe we all should go and get some new clothes.” The young alpha pushed his hair off his forehead. “And maybe haircuts, too.”

Thunder rolled through the mountains and blue lightning flashed, washing out the late December sunlight shining down on the ranch yard. When it cleared, a white, twenty-six-passenger StarCraft Allstar bus sat in the driveway. The door opened and Nate, King of all Werekind, stepped out, followed by Magnus, the king's guard. 

“Hey, Terrell. I brought the bus you asked for.”

“Hi, Nate.” Terrell walked around the bus, examining it. He climbed the steps and surveyed the individual seats, each with a seatbelt buckled across the seat. “It’s a bit big, isn’t it? We only have sixteen kids.”

From outside the bus, Nate answered. “Choices were fifteen passengers or twenty-six passengers, so I got this one.”

Terrell turned, jumped over the steps and out the door, then scratched his cheek and winced. “I’m not sure when I can pay you for it, Sire.”

Nate clapped a hand on Terrell’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Consider it a gift. After all, you’re going to be our test case for sending the kids to human schools.”

Heat suffused Terrell’s face and he ducked his head. “Thank you, Sire.”

“None of that. Where’s Dusty?”

Behind them, the door on the main lodge opened. “Hey, Nate! Wow! That’s a bus.”

“For the kids. When Ms. Bird mentioned the school didn’t have the funds to send a bus to the ranch, Terrell requested a bus.” Nate raised an eyebrow. “I’ll assume someone here has the proper license to drive it.”

“Someone will have a license before school starts in January,” inserted Terrell.

“Good enough.” Nate flashed him a grin before looking at Dusty. 

“You said the sheriff needs to see me?”

The silver-burn scars on his neck mostly covered by a turtleneck sweater, Dusty shrugged and nodded. “Yeah. He’s bringing someone to the ranch. He wouldn’t tell me what he wants, but he insisted you be here.”

Nettie, Dusty’s mate, told Terrell that Dusty received the silver-burn scars on his neck and wrists when an evil alpha kept him in silver chains because Dusty wouldn’t tell him how to find Nate, the boy who grew to become their king. As far as Terrell was concerned, the scars were a testament to Dusty’s unwavering courage and loyalty. His musings were cut short by Josh’s comment.

“Looks like they’re here.”

Terrell followed Josh’s pointing finger to see a La Veta County Sheriff’s car driving toward them.

Chapter 3

Cole Jameson hadn’t said a word since convincing Terry Bird to get in the squad car for a ride. Almost an hour later, the sheriff turned into a drive with an arched wrought-iron sign spanning the entrance over the drive that read Tala Ridge Ranch. At each end of the sign, cut-outs of howling wolves raised their noses to the sky.

Plastered to the first tree inside the ranch, a faded Posted, Private Property sign warned trespassers of legal action should they continue onto the property. Another sign below it warned trespassers might not survive long enough for legal action. Terry frowned at the sign, then glanced at Cole’s profile. Cole’s jaw knotted as he ground his teeth.

“What’s got you so worked up, Cole? What’s out here?”

Cole took a deep breath, glanced at his passenger, then turned his attention back to the snow-covered dirt road in front of him. “You’ll see, soon enough.”

Terry huffed and looked out the door window. As far as he could see, mountains surrounded them. Some bare rock, while others were covered with pine and aspen. Snow blanketed the property and weighed down tree branches. In the distance, the icy water of a small lake gleamed in the sunlight. “Be good hunting out here.”

Cole cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t. At least not without the owner’s permission. Might not live through it. Lots of wild animals out here.”

“What kind? Bears? Wolves?”

“Probably.” Cole gave Terry a sickly grin. “Just don’t come out here without calling and getting permission, okay?”

“Hey, you brought me.”

“I know. And I called first. It’s just that, well, some of these guys are friendlier than others. Some are downright dangerous.”

“You’re that worried about a bunch of cowboys? Local yokels? We’re SEALS, Cole.”

Cole snickered and shook his head but wouldn’t say anything else. Another twenty minutes passed. Blue lightning zipped across the hills and thunder roared.

“That’s weird.” Terry glanced at Cole and frowned when the sheriff caught a breath and clenched his jaw.

Waving a hand, Cole slowed the patrol car. “There they are.”

Terry scanned the area. In the center of a large clearing, a bus was parked in front of a two-story chalet lodge with a wrap-around porch on the second floor hovering over the six houses flanking it,  three on each side. To the east, a huge barn surrounded by fences and corrals dominated the scenery. A small herd sheltered against the south side of the barn to keep out of the north wind. A mountain loomed to the west. Pine trees thick enough to be considered forest covered the mountain behind the lodge. Beyond the last house on the left side, a large chicken coop held dozens of chickens and one lone rooster.

As they pulled into the parking area, Cole grunted. “Nate said he was going to get them a bus.  Looks like he did.”

“Nate? Nate Rollins?”

“Uh huh.” Cole jerked his chin toward the lodge. “Looks like they’re waiting for us.” He blew out a long breath, then glanced at Terry. “Might as well get out. We can’t leave until they say so.”

“What?” Blinking, Terry whipped his head to stare at Cole, but Cole was already climbing out of the vehicle. As the driver’s door shut, Terry looked again at the three men and two boys walking toward them. Just by his mannerisms, Terry identified Nate Rollins. The man behind Nate was huge, larger than any man had a right to be. Nate and the other man walking beside him weren’t small by any measure, but the larger man made them both seem small. Sighing, Bird opened his door and climbed out, shutting it behind him.

Nate stopped as the sheriff reached him, the two men with him standing behind him. Hand outstretched, Nate shook Cole’s hand. Meanwhile, the other two men eyed Terry, as if wondering if he was a threat to them. The two boys blatantly stared at him.

When Nate released Cole’s hand, the sheriff waved toward Terry. “Nate, you remember Commander Bird?”

Nate’s grey eyes fixed on Terry. A moment passed before a smile spread on the man’s face. “Commander, it’s been a while.” Nate extended his hand.

“It has.” Terry shook, then glanced at Cole. “Not sure why I’m here, though.”

“Oh?” Nate looked at Cole. “What’s up?”

“Commander Bird...”

Cole stopped when Terry cleared his throat. “I’m retired, Cole. Call me Terry.”

With a nod, Cole started over. “Terry is Micah Bird’s brother. She’s been flustered and nervous since we were out here, and he’s demanding answers I can’t give him.” Cole scratched his neck and looked uncomfortable. “He knows Captain Waylon Rickles, the man from Oregon I told you about.”

“Hmm.” Nate turned his gaze to Terry. “You know about shifters, then.”

Terry blinked. He turned his incredulous gaze to Cole. “You told him?”

“Nope. Didn’t have to.”

“Didn’t have...?” Terry broke off and glanced at the other two men and the two boys. Eyes narrowed and face tight, he returned his gaze to Nate. “You’re shifters.”

Nate crossed his arms over his chest and sucked air between his front teeth. “That gonna be a problem for you, Terry?”

---

Other News

Tala Ridge Shifters

I've begun writing Tala Ridge Storm, book 2 in the Tala Ridge Shifters series. So far, I have almost 2,000 words and two chapters written. I know the main crises the teens will have to deal with in this book, but the details are still unclear.

Take care,

Texas Ranch Wolf Pack Series

Cover Reveal: Wolf's Duty

Wolf's Duty: Book 12 of the Texas Ranch Wolf Pack Cover Reveal

As of this morning, I have 33,771 words written in book 12 of the Texas Ranch Wolf Pack series.

Book 12 is the last book in this central series, but it is not the last book in Nate Rollins' world. 

Some of my readers are saddened that the series is coming to an end. So, am I. This series has been and continues to be an exciting journey for me as a writer.

I am planning a series for:

• Tala Ridge Pack in Colorado (alpha Terrell)
• Teen Wolfs of Texas Ranch Wolf Pack
• Ozark Pack in Arkansas (alpha Eli)
• Royal Wolf Guard (to be commanded by Magnus)
• Adair pack in Oklahoma
• Westin's pack in Wyoming
• Brighton's Oklahoma Base
• Mason (future mate to Ophelia) and his new family

So many packs to write about! 

If you have a preference which I write first, please let me know in the comments below! Each set will have at least three books, maybe more.

There will be no profanity or sex in any of these series. Some series will be advertised as young adult, though all my books are safe for young readers.

Later,

Texas Ranch Wolf Pack Series

Happy Leif Erikson's Day! Wolf's Quest has Published!

Happy Leif Erikson's Day!

Wolf's Quest has published in both paperback and ebook format!

Wolf's Quest is book 10 in the Texas Ranch Wolf Pack Series.

This book includes three storylines. 

First, Snarl, or Thorkell Ericsson, is the son of Leif Erikson! In previous books, readers learned Snarl's mate was kidnapped by an evil alpha in an effort to control Snarl. He's been searching for her for the past fifteen years. In Wolf's Enemy, he discovers that the Colorado Tala Ridge Pack keeps a woman in a cage. He believes she is his mate.

Second, Josh Tatlow is an orphaned wolf shifter on his way home to face the alpha his parents ran away from when he comes across Snarl. Since both are headed the same place, they decide to go together.

Third, Terrell Pace arrives home to step into the alpha position now that his father, Dylan Pace is dead. His 'sisters' search for the dragon's cave and get into trouble, while Terrell faces unrest in the pack.

This book introduces my first dragon shifter character: Magnus, who shifts an emerald dragon named Erkki. Look for Erkki in future adventures.

Blurb: 

Beware the fury of a wolf shifter!

When an evil alpha kidnaps his mate, wolf shifter Thorkell 'Snarl' Leiffson spends more than a decade searching for her.

Now, he thinks he knows where she is, and nothing will keep him from her. Nothing. Not even a dragon shifter bent on frying him to a crisp.

May the Progenitors help anyone who tries to stop him!

Preview of the first three chapters:

Chapter 1

Fearful of overbalancing and falling down the stairs, Chandra Tatlow leaned her shoulder against the wall while carrying a box of damaged clothing to the basement. “Take the mending to the old lady, he says,” she muttered. “Give her something useful to do, he says. But make sure she doesn’t get out of the cage, he says. Like I could stop her.”

Chandra extended her bottom lip and blew her brunette bangs out of her eyes. She reached the last step and sighed, shifting the box and struggling to get a better hold. Brice Anders, one of Dylan Pace’s lieutenants and the single guard, sat in a chair, his feet propped on a scuffed card table. Frowning at him, Chandra jerked her chin toward the cage. “I need to get this stuff inside. Open up.”

Both his booted feet hit the floor at the same time. His eyes swept over her, and a sick grin stretched his thin lips. Wiping his nose on the sleeve of his chambray shirt, he stood and fingered the sleeve of her sweater. Barely breathing, Chandra glared at him. “Westin said to bring this stuff to Freyja and Dana for mending. Open the cage.”

He leaned toward her. “After . . ..”

“Chandra, you done, yet?” Joshua, Chandra’s mate, stood at the top of the stairs, glaring at the guard. “Westin wants lunch started.”

The guard snorted, side-stepped enough that he wasn’t touching Chandra, then shrugged and pulled the key to the cage door off a nail on the wall. “Hurry up, then.”

Chandra edged around Brice, doing her best not to touch him, and slipped inside the cage. Setting the box on the concrete floor beside the threadbare mattress the two occupants slept on, she bent and opened it. She pulled a small sewing kit from inside the box and handed it to Freyja Grimsdottir. The old woman refused to take it and would have let the box fall to the floor. Dana Pace, Alpha Dylan Pace’s human daughter, reached past her and took the kit.

“What are we supposed to do?” Resigned to the task, Dana ignored the guard.

At the same time, the old woman’s shaky voice asked, “Where’s Snarl?”

Those were the only words the old one had spoken to Chandra in the fifteen years she’d been assigned to bring food and water to the prisoner. For the first nine years, every time the cage door opened, it took two men to forcibly restrain the old woman. After the alpha threw his eight-year-old human daughter, Dana, into the cage, too, six years ago, the old woman settled down. She even spoke with Dana, but only in a language no one else could understand. When Chandra asked, Dana told her the woman taught her to speak Dǫnsk tunga. Chandra had no idea what that was, or even if it was a real language or one the old woman made up.

Chandra ignored the glaring gaze of the woman and spoke to the teenager in a soft voice. “Westin wants these clothes mended by the end of the week.” She leaned slightly toward the girl and twitched her eyes toward the box. “I brought everything you need to do the work. Sewing supplies are in the kit.” Cutting her eyes to the girl, she looked at the box again.

Understanding flashed into Dana’s eyes. For a moment, Chandra was afraid the teen might grin and give her away. Dana cleared all emotion from her face and nodded. “We’ll get started after lunch.”

With a nod, Chandra walked out of the cage. The cage door slammed behind her. In her haste to avoid the guard, Chandra was already halfway up the stairs before he finished hanging the keys on the wall.

“Hey, Woman,” he called.

Chandra stopped and glanced over her shoulder. “What?”

“When you bring their lunch, bring me some.” He smirked at her. “I’m hungry, too.”

Joshua caught her arm and pulled her up the rest of the stairs. In the door, she turned and waited for him to join her. His back to her, Joshua growled low in his chest. “You can get your own lunch when your shift is over.”

*****

While Brice’s attention was on Chandra and Joshua, Dana pulled enough clothes out of the box to see the flashlight batteries and books Chandra brought her. Covering her mouth with her left hand to hold back a squeal of excitement, Dana tilted the box for Freyja to see inside. Amusement flickered across Freyja’s face, then disappeared into her habitual scowl. A few of their guards allowed Dana to read aloud, but Brice was not one of them. After he retired for the night, Dana would read to Freyja. Freyja had no trouble with reading or speaking English, but she refused to do so until she was free. Except for the two-word sentence, she asked every time anyone came into the cage.

While reading romances was unconventional as far as education goes, Freyja insisted that Dana read to her every night. And occasionally during the day. The books provided information on faraway places Dana would never get to go. And the shifter romances, in many instances, came perilously close to the truth of shifter relationships. Dana, however, preferred reading stories about humans in love. She had too many shifters in her life, now. The only shifters she trusted were her younger brother Terrell, Freyja, and Chandra.

Unfortunately, the flashlight batteries died three nights ago. This was the first time in a week that Chandra had been able to sneak in batteries along with more books. When the guards left for the day, all but one of the books would be carefully concealed beneath the old mattress with the others. Dana was careful to never let the guards see more than one book, afraid they would all be confiscated. The books she finished would be returned to Chandra by placing them at the bottom of the clothes box when she returned for it. Occasionally, when there was nothing else to do, one of the guards would listen while she read the book to Freyja. But not the guard on duty now.

When the flashlight didn’t have batteries, the two often spent most of the night discussing the places Freyja had traveled with her mate, Snarl. She told tales of history from a first-hand perspective. Before talking or reading, though, Freyja insisted on exercise. As soon as the guards left for the day, she led Dana through a series of warm-ups, stretches, and fighting techniques. Dana never understood why they had to have a guard during the day but were left alone at night.

A smile twitched Dana’s lips before she smoothed it away. But then, her father had no idea how powerful and dangerous Freyja really was. The first years, she’d been drugged to control her. After Dana was thrown in the cage, too, Freyja quit fighting. When she quit fighting, the drugs stopped. Too expensive, Dana figured. Freyja appointed herself to be Dana’s personal guard. When any male came in the cage, Freyja stayed between them and Dana. The guards thought it was funny, but Dana knew if they tried to get to her, Freyja would destroy them. A Viking shieldmaiden would do no less for one she chose to protect.

Chapter 2

After spending the day going through her family’s belongings and packing to move to the Tala Ridge Ranch, Nettie Dietrich was tired. The last thing she wanted to do was spend an hour reading stories to her six-year-old twins. Still, after all they’d been through, it was hard to say no.

Lettie Dietrich pulled her covers up to her chin. “Please, Momma, please!”

Nettie Dietrich shook her head. “You both need some sleep. We’re leaving for Colorado tomorrow morning.” She gave the twins a firm frown, but when Mattie turned her beseeching gaze on her and started begging, too, Nettie laughed. “Okay. One story. What do you want to hear?”

The twins shouted their story choices, then started squabbling over which story their mom should tell. A snicker at the door caught Nettie’s attention. Terrell grinned at her when she looked up. “Want me to tell them a story?”

Nettie smiled at the boy. She still didn’t completely understand Nate’s reason for asking her and Dusty to be his guardians, but the boy was starting to grow on her. “What story?”

Terrell walked into the room and sat on the foot of Lettie’s bed. Raising his eyebrows and using a spooky voice, he asked, “Did you ever hear the story of the dragon protector?”

Squealing, the two girls sat up. Mattie clapped her hands. “Tell us that one, Terrell. Please!”

“Yes, that one!” As usual, Lettie followed her sister’s lead.

Terrell looked at Nettie. “Is it okay?”

“I haven’t heard that one. Is it violent?”

“Not really. There was a death in the story, but no gory details. This story is about what happened after that.”

“Okay. Go ahead.” As Terrell began his story, Nettie felt a touchless caress and smiled at Dusty where he leaned against the door facing. Amazed at the difference in her true mate and the one forced on her so long ago, she relaxed in the comfort of his mental embrace.

“Long and long ago,” began Terrell, leaning toward the two girls and looking from one to the other, “there was a were king named Eric the Red.”

Nettie glanced at Dusty in surprise, and Dusty shrugged. I don’t think I’ve heard this story, she heard him speak in her mind, but Eric the Red was Snarl’s grandfather. Nettie blinked and listened.

“King Eric had a protector given to him by the Progenitors. A protector so fierce none could survive his fiery breath should they try to harm the king. But one spring day, the king’s mate died. For many days, King Eric grieved, growing weaker and weaker, for they were true mates. The king asked Magnus, the protector, to leave him to grieve alone. While the protector remained behind, the king went to the shore to grieve for his mate. Thorkell Eriksson, second grandson, but first grandson to be were, attacked and killed the king, taking his ring and staff. Thorkell and his mate escaped justice, sailing away to parts unknown and were never found.”

A slight rustle of clothing indicated Dusty no longer leaned against the doorway. Nettie thought he looked like he wanted to interrupt the story. Dusty took one step, but when Terrell continued the story, he stopped to listen.

“Magnus searched for Thorkell to bring him to the elders for justice, but he was never found. In disgrace, Magnus left the Ostmen. For many years, he wandered across Europe, gathering treasure, but when the Saxon’s began hunting him, he left the old world and came to the new. When the sons of the First Mother came to this country, Magnus was here. He helped them build homes, protected them from all who tried to force them away. But when he deemed the were safe, he disappeared into his cave and has never since been seen.”

Terrell gazed from one girl to the other. “And there he sleeps, yet, deep beneath the rolling hills at the foot of the mountains, waiting for the new king that he might once again be the protector he was born to be. His treasure is said to be worth more than that of all the kings of Europe, but no one has ever found it.” Terrell leaned closer to the twins, his voice hushed. “They say one who finds his treasure and wakes him will be granted wealth untold. But none have ever returned from the search.”

Mattie scrunched up her rosebud mouth and her nose. “Is it true, Terrell? Is there really a dragon hidden in Colorado?”

“Of course. I’ve even been in his cave.” Terrell grinned at them. “Maybe someday I can show it to you.”

“Not without adult supervision.”

Terrell sent a guilty glance at Nettie. “Yes, Ma’am.” He hesitated, then added, “The entrance is easy to find, but it’s not safe to go inside.” He frowned at the two girls. “Don’t ever go there alone. The protector might eat you.”

Both girls laughed and squealed. Nettie stood and shooed Terrell toward the door. “That’s enough. Time for bed. We have a long trip ahead of us, tomorrow.”

Giving both her daughters a quick kiss, Nettie turned on the nightlight lamp on the table between their beds, then turned off the light and pulled the door closed. She heard a rumble of voices from the kitchen and followed them to find Terrell sitting at the bar. The overhead lights were off, but the Christmas lights outlining the window cast a blinking glow through the room. Dusty set a glass of milk in front of the kid and sat beside him.

“So, about the story you told the girls . . ..”

“It was true, Sir, I wouldn’t tell them a false tale.”

Nettie joined them, sitting next to Dusty. “Where did you hear that story, Terrell?”

“Before she died, my grandmother told me stories about how the protector searched for the traitor to the king but couldn’t find him. The protector helped our pack survive the first years.” Terrell took a sip of milk and set his glass on the bar. “The old woman in the cage told Dana many stories about the protector, too, and how he was guardian to the king a long time ago, but . . . the old woman said the story my grandmother told wasn’t exactly true. That the protector didn’t know the whole story. So, I don’t know what’s true, I guess.”

Dusty pinched the bridge of his nose, then gazed at Terrell. “If the protector did exist, then the old lady was right. Erik the Red forced his grandson to kill him. Erik was slowly dying of the mating disease after his true mate died. Not wanting his oldest grandson to be the Alpha King, he forced Thorkell to kill him to ensure his medallion, ring, and staff didn’t fall into the hands of one who would destroy his people.”

Blinking, Terrell moved his gaze from Dusty to Nettie, then back to Dusty. “That’s what the old woman told Dana. When Dana told Father, he accused the old one of lying and trying to undermine our faith in the protector. All were forbidden to spend time with her. Then my step-mother tried to run with Dana. Father put Dana in the cage with the old lady.” He swallowed and bowed his head, hiding his face. “I never saw my step-mother again. I think . . . I think he killed her.”

Chapter 3

Two days later, Snarl wobbled a little beneath the glamour of age he wore as he hefted a threadbare travel bag over his shoulder and leaned on his knobby wood cane. Appearing to be in his eighties or nineties, he squinted as if he had trouble seeing, and studied the layout of the airport lobby. Commercial sized holiday decorations hung from the ceiling and tinsel garlands wrapped each column. After growing up with tales of Asgard and Odin among the Vikings, Christmas wasn’t a holiday he felt strongly about, one way or the other.

It felt strange to pretend to be an old man again after discarding the appearance of age for the last few months. Still, if he showed up in Colorado appearing to be a much younger man, the Tala Ridge Pack would never believe the old woman they held in the cage was his mate. Working as bodyguard to the were king’s family took up his time, but his thoughts were on Freyja, his missing mate. Always. Now that he had information that Freyja might be in Colorado, the king released him from service to go after her.

His gaze landed on the televised departure screens. Releasing a heavy sigh, he frowned. The last time he flew anywhere on a commercial flight was . . . 1960? Maybe? He couldn’t remember when it was, but he remembered the flight. The stewardess, that’s what they called them back then, was sweet, but the toddler who refused to stop kicking the back of his seat tempted Snarl to wolf out and eat him. A slight shudder shook his bent frame. Werewolves had no business flying on a jet. Even so, here he was.

After reviewing the departures, he found his flight and moved toward his gate. With a slight shake of his head, he walked to the line, then shambled forward with others as it moved toward the TSA line. Things were sure different. The last time he flew, security didn’t check all passengers and their carry-ons. He set his bag, cane, and shoes on the conveyor belt and watched it travel through the screening device. Holding to the side of the conveyor, he walked to the arch, letting go to step through it. An alarm buzzed, and the agent stopped him. Snarl leaned lightly on the side of the conveyor as if he needed the support to stand.

Two TSA agents asked him to step aside. After handing him his cane and shoes, one of the agents ran a wand over him. A buzz sounded when it passed over his belt. “Please remove your belt and pass it to me.”

Snarl dropped his shoes on the floor, unbuckled the belt, and slid the length of leather out of his jeans belt loops. He gave it to the agent with hands that appeared bent and gnarled. While the second agent passed the wand around him again, Snarl leaned on the cane, stroking his scraggly grey beard with one hand, and watched the first check the belt buckle. His wolf snarled in his mind, wanting to bite the man touching his things.

“Where are you going, Sir?”

“Colorado. To pick up my wife.” Snarl gave the agent a smile. “Ever been to Colorado, Son?”

“No, Sir.” He handed the belt back to Snarl. “You can go.”

Snarl nodded, balanced on his cane while he stepped into his shoes, and then fumbled his belt back on. Guess Nate knew what he was talking about when he told me to wear loafers instead of sneakers. Sighing, he caught the strap of his carry-on when the agent handed it to him and then walked toward his gate. The cane that delivered a solid tap against the tiled floor every step he took was the only evidence of his annoyance.

His flight to Denver was non-stop, but then he would have to transfer to a different airline to get to Pueblo, Colorado. From there he’d have to drive almost two hours to get to the Tala Ridge Ranch where he believed Freyja was being held. When the king questioned Terrell, son of the former alpha to the Tala Ridge Pack, they learned the Colorado pack kept a caged woman for the past fifteen years. It had to be Freyja. It had to.

Snarl handed his ticket to the woman behind the counter. She did whatever it was she did on the computer, then handed it back to him and smiled. The Christmas bell earrings she wore jingled softly as she moved her head. “We’ll be boarding in a few minutes, Sir.”

Giving her an absent nod, Snarl slowly walked to a row of chairs and sat down. Glancing at the other passengers waiting for boarding, he let out a breath of relief. At least he wouldn’t have to put up with a snotty-nosed toddler brat, this trip. Maybe it was long enough before Christmas that most of the holiday family travel would happen after he got off the metal monstrosity. Three teens sat at the far end of the facing row of seats, but all three were engrossed in their phones and didn’t bother to look up. Men and women dressed in business attire made up the rest of the passengers around him.

Thinking about his mate, he stared out the window at a departing jet. He didn’t notice a boy come closer to him until he smelled him. Sitting up more quickly than he probably should since he wore an age glamour, his gaze searched the passengers until a kid sat beside him.

“You going to Colorado, too, Mister?”

Snarl blinked and looked at the boy. He was about thirteen, maybe fourteen, dressed in well-worn jeans, a Star Wars t-shirt, and a Denver Bronco’s ballcap. Snarl sniffed again. Wolf! Snarl’s wolf gave a low growl. Snarl ignored the youngster and searched for the kid’s traveling companions. When he didn’t find more wolves in the area, he gave the boy what the younger wolves called his ‘stink eye’ and frowned. “You talking to me, Kid?”

The boy tilted his head and grinned. “Yes, Sir. I’m going to Colorado to live with my grandparents. I’ve never met them. My name is Josh. Dad was in the Army and we lived in Germany, or Texas, or Greece since I was born.”

A smile tugged at Snarl’s lips and he reinforced the frown, still uneasy. After all he had seen in his long life, he didn’t need the warning Nate gave him before he left the ranch. Wolves were seldom friendly to others outside their own pack. Keeping the boy in his peripheral vision, he scanned the area again. “You alone, Boy?”

“Yes, Sir.”

With a non-committal huff, Snarl turned back to the window. At least the kid was old enough not to be kicking anyone’s seat. Without letting the boy know he watched him, he kept an eye on him, wondering where his parents were. Surely a wolf his age wasn’t allowed to roam alone. Unless he missed his guess, the boy wasn’t old enough to shift to a wolf, yet. Not seeming to mind Snarl’s pointed disregard, the boy let his gaze wander around the other passengers. Both his heels softly thumped the floor as his knees bounced, the movement quickly becoming annoying.

Snarl cleared his throat. “Why aren’t your mother or father traveling with you?”

The grin on the kid’s face faded. “My mother died when I was born. My aunt took care of me while my father was deployed with a unit of Marine Raiders, but she . . .. My father . . .,” he swallowed and looked down. “My father died three weeks ago. His Humvee hit an IED, and everyone died.”

Startled, Snarl studied the boy closer. The boy looked younger than his six-foot height indicated. “Who are you traveling with?”

“No one.” He raised his face and looked into Snarl’s eyes. “You looked like a grampa, and you smell a little like my dad, so I thought maybe I could sit with you.”

Snarl blinked and sniffed the boy. Josh hid it well, but he was scared to death. The only reason Snarl hadn’t already smelled the boy’s terror was his preoccupation with finally finding his beloved wife Freyja after fifteen years. “Where you headed?”

“La Veta. I have a bus ticket there from Pueblo. I’m supposed to call my grandmother when I get to La Veta.” Josh sighed and stared out the same window Snarl had been looking through, then muttered, “If I can find a payphone, somewhere.”

The unease the boy radiated swept Snarl. Finally, sure the boy wasn’t a threat, the tightness in Snarl’s shoulders eased. Before he realized it, his wolf forced him to offer, “You can use my phone to call her. I’m headed to La Veta, too.”

The boy’s expression perked up. “You are?” Then he bit his lip and frowned. “Do you live there?”

“No, my wife is at a place called the Tala Ridge Ranch. I’m going to pick her up.”

Eyes growing wider, the boy swallowed, then gave him a sickly smile. “Oh. Well, thanks, Mister.” He stood up and stepped away from Snarl, never taking his gaze from the old man.

Snarl frowned when he noticed the airline employees watching. Infusing his voice with alpha command, he said, “Sit down and quit fidgeting. I won’t hurt you.”

Without a word, the boy sat. Not that he had much choice. Josh swallowed and glanced at Snarl from the corner of his eye. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?” he whispered.

With a sigh, Snarl leaned forward, careful not to touch the boy. He didn’t need anyone deciding he was a threat. “Josh, have you been to Tala Ridge Ranch?”

Josh shook his head. “My dad had a fight with the, um, owner, and left before he married my mother.”

“And your mother?”

The boy tried to avoid the answer, but Snarl sent a little more command toward him. “I already told you I won’t hurt you. Did your mother come from there, too? Was she one of them?”

“Yes.”

Snarl raised an eyebrow. “She ran away with your dad against the al . . ., um owner’s permission?”

Breathing hard, Josh nodded.

“Do you have permission to return?”

“No, and I don’t want to go, but no one cares what I want.”

Snarl wrapped his hands around the knob on the end of his cane and leaned his chin on his hands. “Do they know you’re coming?”

Josh swallowed hard and whispered, “I don’t know.” He studied Snarl for a moment, then asked in a soft voice. “You promise you won’t hurt me?”

Snarl gave him a single nod. “I promise.”

Letting out a long breath, Josh pulled a letter from his pocket. “My aunt gave me this letter to give my grandmother after she picked me up.”

“Have you read it?”

“Yeah. She wasn’t really my aunt. My dad paid her to take care of me while he was deployed. After he died, she knew she wouldn’t be paid, anymore, so she sent me here.”

Snarl pursed his lips and thought. “She give you any money?”

“Only enough to eat till I get there.” Josh sighed. “I don’t think I even have enough for a cab. If my grandmother won’t come get me, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“And you know enough to know she might not be able to, even if she wants to.”

“Yeah. Dad told me how Dylan Pace treats his . . . employees.”

“Well, that won’t be a concern. Pace is dead.”

Shock splashed across Josh’s face. “He is? How do you know?”

“He committed treason and died for it. His son, Terrell, will be in charge when he gets back to Colorado.”

Josh settled further back into his chair, slowly relaxing as he looked at Snarl. “Is he as mean as his dad was?”

“No. In fact, he’s not quite as old as you are. My guess is he’s about twelve, or so.” Snarl ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. “And you would be, what, fourteen?”

“No, Sir. I’m thirteen. My birthday was November 12.” He squirmed.

“What?”

“He’s younger than me, and they’re gonna let him be in charge?”

For the first time since the conversation started, Snarl grinned. “They won’t have much choice.”

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Thank you for reading the preview. I hope you enjoy the book!

Later,