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.