You asked, now you shall receive. We ran an experiment for a while of shorter stories, however, most fans have indicated they want something longer… (don’t we all… *snicker*) So here I give to you, Amory’s Mate, a longer work that will knock your socks off with action and sensuality. The heroine is a independent damsel that is in distress but you won’t see her faint nor swoon. She is packing guns and knows how to use them. Here is a blurb and an excerpt. It is available now at http://www.sharaazod.com/ebook/amorys-mate.html
Running in the woods through deep snow in the middle of the night wasn’t a good idea no matter who you were. Running through the woods at night, during a blizzard with a stolen laptop, several stolen microchips, and two goons chasing you was an even worse idea. Angel Harmon was always full of ideas, but this late-night run hadn’t been her plan. She thought for the hundredth time that hour that all she was doing was her job. She thought she’d chosen a safe career in the IT field. Being a security specialist, she found security breaches in websites and company programs. All she was doing was her job, and now someone was dead and she was obviously next.
Amory Monteclaire had been out on a run with his packmates when he’d crossed paths with the mocha skinned female running through the woods. Her scent was intoxicating enough for him to want her, the fact that she was in danger made him want to protect her. The question is, would the wildly independent woman stay in his world once she was out of danger?
“Angel.” It was all he could say; his chest was heaving, the urge to howl was too close, and her lips were still pressing closed-mouthed kisses on his cheek and his chin.
“Amory,” she returned. Her voice was serious, even if she had no idea what she was doing or what he was saying. She sighed then laughed. Stopping her assault on his body with her mouth—for which he was grateful—and sitting up, she looked him in the eye. Her normally almond-shaped eyes were in the most seductive slits he’d ever seen. There was something to be said about a woman who could look at a man without a look of fear—he just couldn’t think what it was. What he saw, in that moment, was the warrior his Angel really was. Her look was sensual and defiant. His chest swelled as she stared at him. “What? You think I’m going to cower because of what you are? You think you howling, growling, grunting, and whimpering is going to stop this want I have for you? Are you really that bad of a wolf, Amory?” That last question was asked in defiance, as if she was daring him. “Well, are you? Are you that bad of a wolf that you don’t think I can handle you?”
Go pick up your copy and of course, let me know what you think. Happy Reading!