A Sneak Peek at the next Shifter of Consequence Tale: Tremble
Available here.
Two mates and me living under one roof. What could go wrong?
A lot, actually. We’ve got a half-shifter, half-witch on our tails, scooping up girls from our pack. She’s like a ghost, so tracking and trapping her is like sifting air. Especially since her chief henchman is a hawk shifter with an axe to grind. Possibly literally.
The females in my pack are being hunted, and I’m not going to stand for it one second longer. I have to do something. I just don’t know what yet.
My mate and my almost-mate are now living under one roof, and the word awkward doesn’t even begin to describe what’s going on. But the pressure is on, and Samson will be mine sooner rather than later. Their legacy of rivalry is far too entrenched for twin brothers who should have one another’s back. And I know who caused it.
But Samson wants me, and I want him.
And we all want safety and peace for the pack.
Tremble is the 7th book in a paranormal reverse harem shifter series featuring members of the Midnight Alder Pack. This is the third and final volume of Christie’s story. It is a why choose werewolf romance with a slow burn buildup sure to make your toes curl. Relationships develop over the course of this supernatural series and, of course, Mazzy guarantees an HEA.
An Excerpt from Survivor – The First Shifter of Consequence Tale
Available Here
Chapter One
“Little lady, your phone has been beeping for quite a while. Might want to tend to that.” The man’s gruff voice broke through my thoughts and slammed me back into reality. Great. Time for my pills. Again. Shit, didn’t I just take them? I pressed the button at the side of the watch and made it stop beeping. The man with the Mario mustache and tan jumpsuit took it as proof I’d heard him and grumbled something about kids these days.
Didn’t consider eighteen a kid, but I guessed to him it was.
I pushed the wheels of my chair forward a little until I could lean sideways and reach my purse without splaying myself all over the carpet in front of the movers. That kind of thing was generally avoided in my life, but it tended to happen when I least expected or wanted it.
As if I ever really wanted it.
My purse rattled with the sound of capsules in a glass bottle, and I fished the green-and-white speckled one out of the bottle and popped it into my mouth, no water required.
I had been taking them for so long; they went down with no help whatsoever.
Another man, one with the name Charlie embroidered into his jumpsuit, crouched down in front of me with a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other. His fingernails were dirty underneath, and when he smiled, his chapped lips cracked a little. “That’s it for us. Are you sure you don’t want help getting the few things from the car? It would be no charge and wouldn’t take more than a minute.”
I sighed and signed the bill for the movers without answering. What he was really saying was he wouldn’t mind getting the stuff out of my car since I was ill-equipped for the job. Probably make him sleep better tonight knowing my belongings weren’t stranded in the car.
The thing was, even if it took me seven times as long to get everything out, I liked to do as much for myself as I possibly could. “No, thank you. I’ve got the necessities right here. I’ll handle it. But, thank you. I know it was a lot of books to haul around.”
He chuckled and took the clipboard back, glancing over it to make sure everything was in order then tapping the pen against it with a brisk nod. “Heaviest boxes are always books. Always. You take care now, Wendi.” He had to reference the clipboard to get my name right but fine. At least he’d tried.
The movers filed out, waving at me as they got in their trucks. I listened to the sounds of rustling gravel as they pulled out of the driveway and then onto the almost-deserted road. After closing the door, I wheeled myself into the center of the room and braced myself for what came next. The moving part.
Somehow, I had to managed to pack all of this stuff on my own. Suddenly, I was wishing I had been more of a minimalist. The movers had put the furniture where it belonged and gone so far as to put my bed together, but that was as much as I would allow them to help. I had to do this on my own.
Part of being a big girl and all.
It wasn’t as if I couldn’t move. No, I’d been blessed in that way. It was more that it took me a thousand years to do things it took average people only seconds to do. Like moving from this chair, my ever-present friend and foe, to the couch placed right where I wanted it, the larger-than-life window in the living room facing the forest beyond. I’d picked this place for the view. Tree branches bowed to each other in the distance, and I could see the sloping and elevation of the land.
After eyeing the transition and mapping it out in my head, I put one hand on the arm of the couch and the other on one arm of the chair. With a great groan, I hoisted myself to standing and took a few steps forward, so when I collapsed into the couch, and I would, my ass would land first. My legs shook from
