Excerpt of The Harder They Fall by JoAnna Grace

It was all too easy to let his mind wander, to think
about absolutely nothing except for where his paws would
land with the next step. The walking path to the cabin
was clear if you knew to look for the notches in the
trees. He could travel like this all day and not get
bored, never tire. Being in the wilderness liberated his
lion; the burden he carried behind him only added a minor
challenge to his muscular frame.

This was exactly what he needed.

The next four hours passed slowly and quietly, a vast
change from the chaos of the last few weeks. For the
first time in a long time, he turned off his brain and
let his lion dominate his actions. His wide paws
navigated the terrain with no problems. His ears alerted
him to the movement of the forest creatures and his nose
picked up the various scents of nature. Conall lost
himself into his lion and his human counterpart took a
well-needed mental nap.

Then he heard an angel.

The voice echoed around the woods and he froze with one
paw off the ground. His feline ears perked up. After
living with Vivian Blake, diva extraordinaire, for five
years, he knew musical talent when he heard it. Vivian
had the most beautiful voice he’d ever heard…until right
then. Closing his eyes, he crouched down, still as death,
to listen. The notes rose and fell flawlessly on pitch
and with incredible ease. Her range was awe-inspiring.
His breath caught in his throat as he listened to her
build up to a note so high and delicate, it caused his
heart to soar in anticipation. The emotion of the words,
the love conveyed in every measure resonated in his
chest. Tendrils of melody wrapped around him, gripping
him tighter with every beat. Had he been in human form,
he might have fallen to his knees. As it was, the four
legs of his lion shook with the driving need to get
closer to the source of such mesmerizing singing.

He took cautious steps over the crest of the hill to look
upon the cottage set snugly among the evergreens. Green
tin roof and logs made from local timber provided
camouflage. Smoke rose from the chimney; the smell
traveling the air currents was divine. Three chairs
rocked on the porch, pushed by the invisible hands of the
wind. Although the coming winter cold had scared them
away, it was clear the cottage was usually framed with
flowers. A brown picket fence protected a garden. He
envisioned Snow White singing to the forest creatures as
they scuttled around her feet.

Ha, he thought. Any moment now, some old woman would come
outside with a radio in her hand.

He didn’t want the fantasy to end. The lion closed his
eyes and let the gentle voice wash over him. Peace
settled in his chest, a heavy weight dissolved from his
shoulders. The notes infiltrated his veins and he felt
absolutely drunk with contentment. Her love song pierced
him and eased each breath he took.

Incredible…

The notes cut off as soon as the wind shifted.

“Who’s there?” chimed an angelic voice. His singer.