An amazing story! Definitely a keeper.
A must read. A good page turner.
A enjoyable read. An average book.
A book that has flaws and is hard to finish.
Terrible and couldn't finish it.
Title: Loup-Garou For You
Author: Katalina Leon
Publisher: Ellora’s
Cave
Length: 156 pgs
Sub-Genre: Erotic,
romance, paranormal
BLURB: Bayou Country, 1834. Aubert Marston
awakens on the eve of his twenty-seventh birthday to discover he’s undergone
some disturbing physical changes. His body is bigger, stronger and hairier than
it’s ever been, and burns with the lust of a beast. To make matters worse, a
hundred guests are about to arrive for the plantation’s annual ball.
A mysterious young woman named Corrine appears in his home,
temping Aubert to unleash the inner lycan, and family secrets from a medieval
past surface. Corrine lures Aubert to a bayou camp of Cajun
Loup-Garous—werewolves, But Aubert’s wealth and good looks are no advantage
here. He must surrender to his feral nature and fight tooth and claw against
another male pack member to claim Corrine as his own.
Inside Scoop: This story contains mild bondage, southern
hospitality, consensual sexual torment, f/f, m/m, anal play, cage fighting and
unfettered animal lust. Enjoy!
A Romantica® historical paranormal erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave
Ellora’s Cave
Publishing: http://www.ellorascave.com/loup-garou-for-you.html
BUY LINKS:
Ellora’s Cave Publishing:
Amazon:
ARe
I’m an
artist, an author, mother and wife. I write for Ellora’s Cave, Loose Id
Publishing and a couple new publishers to be announced soon. I try to bring a
touch of the mystical and a big sense of adventure to everything I write
because I believe there’s a bold, kick-ass heroine inside all of us who wants
to take a wild ride with a strong worthy hero.
Website:
katalinaleon.com
Ellora’s Cave:
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Twitter: Katalina_Leon
Prologue
With clockwork precision, in the
restless hour before dawn, the oppressive leviathan of a nightmare rose from
the depths, grabbed Aubert and yanked him down.
Once the dream captured him there
was no hope of being spared. Aubert’s heart pounded and sweat broke on his
brow, but all he could do was endure the inevitable as it unfolded behind his
closed lids. He willed himself to wake but there was no escape from the anguish
that insisted on being relived each morning.
This had happened so often in recent
days that it was more of a ritual than a dream. Aubert remained alert but
helpless as a strange trancelike state dragged him along an unrelenting
storyline seemingly written in stone.
He heard the familiar crunch of frost
beneath his boots and felt the chill of a howling gale as he crossed a rugged
mountain pass. He glanced down and saw the same sight he saw every morning—a
rough woolen tunic covered in chain mail, bloodstained leather leggings and a
dagger strapped to his hip. The details never varied. A jolt of insight raced
through him that this wasn’t merely a dream, that this limbo realm was as solid
as anything he’d ever known.
The rocky pass descended into a
steep valley cleaved in two by a turbulent green river. Against an amber sunset
a rustic cottage with curved walls and a conical thatched roof perched near the
river’s edge. The cottage appeared neglected, without a trace of candlelight
within or a comforting curl of smoke rising from the hearth.
He knew what came next and it didn’t
lessen the emotional impact in the slightest. He’d memorized this part of the
dream. Tortured thoughts tumbled through his mind.
She
must be freezing. Why didn’t she light a fire? I left her enough wood for
winter...
And indeed a well-stocked woodpile
sat unused beside the cottage.
At that moment, true panic set in.
He had to reach the cottage and find
her. There would be no peace until he knew. He ran so fast he slid and toppled
on the icy path. The hilt of his heavy broadsword struck and bruised his leg.
He stood and limped forward but he wasn’t moving fast enough.
He cast the sword aside in
frustration, stripped away his clothing and fell to the ground on all fours. He
scraped his fingers into the frozen earth, relishing the biting sting of ice
beneath his fingernails, and watched as his hands transformed into gripping
paws and his arms and legs morphed into the lean limbs of a wolf.
He sprang to his feet in the agile
body of a wolf and loped down the path at great speed. As he approached the
cottage, he stopped to sniff the air. Snow flurries stung his eyes as he
squinted with suspicion through the cottage’s unlatched door. He sensed no
5
Katalina
Leon
movement in the shadows, nor did he
catch the faint whiff of a freshly extinguished campfire, all disturbing signs
that he was alone in this desolate place.
He padded inside the cottage,
sniffing everything in frantic agitation, but only a faded hint of her hung in
the air. In a crushing instant he knew she’d deserted the cottage weeks,
perhaps months ago while he was on crusade.
Aside from a bed, table and a few
practical things, the cottage was bare. Her colorful silk scarves, painted
bowls and endless jars filled with dried herbs and magical talismans were
missing—including her sacred book of truths, the possession of which was a
virtual death sentence if discovered by the royal court.
Before he had left on the king’s
errand into Saracen territory, she had warned him it would have to be this way
when he returned and he had refused to believe her.
The harsh facts soured in his soul.
The love of his life and his secret wife was gone. He knew she had fled east to
distant lands, where his liege King Charlemagne forbade him to follow. By now
she was far beyond his reach. Bitter emptiness unlike any tragedy he’d ever
tasted sliced deep into his heart.
He hated her for leaving and wanted
her back but he also understood why she had done it. She’d saved her life and
his, and most likely the life of their unborn child. After the enchantment
she’d cast on him, she couldn’t remain in France and expect to live.
For everyone’s sake, the secret had
to remain hidden. In his heart of hearts he knew she had done the right thing,
but it didn’t ease his grief. Now that she was gone he’d never again have what
he desired most. Bleak days lay ahead. True love, passion and a piece of his
soul were lost to him. There would be no replacing her. Any woman who followed
in her wake would merely be a shadow of what had been.
He threw back his head and howled
the low, mournful wolf wail of an abandoned mate.
There was no answer within the
valley’s icy solitude.
In that abysmal moment he locked his
heart, trapping loneliness and anger within, and pounced on the bed they had
shared as lovers. In a vicious storm of flying straw and feathers, he tore into
the mattress with fangs bared and shredded it, guaranteeing no one would ever
lie on their wedding bed again.
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