"Sparks ignite within the pages of this delightfully engaging romance"
Reviewed by Darlene Kendall
Posted April 29, 2011
Romance Paranormal
Zoey Tyler left the big city to become the editor of a
small town newspaper. For years she has ignored her physic
abilities and never expected that they would come out full
blast in such a small setting. When she is attacked by a
massive wolf and rescued by Connor Macleod, the town
veterinarian, Zoey discovers a world of intrigue. The town
is paranoid about werewolves so Zoey writes a story about a
large wild dog on the loose. Connor knows who attacked
Zoey and he takes care to stop the culprit. Their pack
must remain anonymous if they want to mingle with the
humans. He did not count on Zoey's reporter instincts nor
that they would place her and the pack in danger from a
madman. An investigator comes to town to prove there are
werewolves living there. At first, Zoey doesn't believe him
until her own investigation along with some disturbing
visions shows her there may just be some truth to the
rumors. Now she must decide what she is going to do about
it if there truly are werewolves living among them. Sparks ignite within the pages of this delightfully
engaging romance filled with excitement and danger. The
passion between Zoey and Connor is realistic, who doesn't
love sexy shapeshifters, and the hero in this tale is sexy
personified. CHANGELING MOON offers reader a perfect blend
of the paranormal, romance, and suspense. I look forward
to book two.
SUMMARY
He roams the moonlit wilderness, his every sense and
instinct on high alert. Changeling wolf Connor Macleod and
his Pack have never feared anything--until the night human
Zoey Tyler barely escapes a rogue werewolf's vicious attack.
As the full moon approaches, Zoey has no idea of the changes
that are coming, and only Connor can show her what she is,
and help her master the wildness inside. With her
initiation into the Pack just days away and a terrifying
predator on the loose, the tentative bonds of trust and
tenderness are their only weapons against a force red in
tooth, claw... and ultimate evil.
ExcerptUnedited Excerpt Prologue
The wolf wanted out.
Heavy clouds obscured the moon and washed the night with
icy rain. The cold, damp air brought a myriad of intriguing
scents. The man slunk along the sidewalk, his limbs
tingling as his body instinctively drew energy from the earth.
The wolf wanted out now.
Full of hunger and rage, the wolf writhed under the man’s
skin in anticipation as he turned into a familiar alley
behind the town hall. It was dark here, overgrown with trees
and bushes, flanked with leaning fences, sagging garages,
and numberless garbage cans. There was a spot where no light
reached, a perfect spot—
The wolf snarled its impatience and he cursed back. He
was trying to hurry, dammit, but his body refused to
cooperate. To human eyes, he was just an old drunk, sixty
going on eighty. In reality, he was far older than even
those like him could guess. When his wolf wanted out, he
could no longer keep it leashed for long. And truth be told,
he didn’t want to. Because once he took on his lupine form,
all his aches and pains would disappear and he’d be strong
and powerful again.
The wolf within whispered: Tonight we will hunt. And
become even stronger. Chapter One Freezing rain sliced out of the black sky, turning the
wet pavement to glass. Zoey stared out at the freakish
weather and groaned
aloud. With less than two days left in the month of April,
the skies had been
clear and bright all afternoon. Trees were budding early and
spring had seemed
like a sure bet. Now this. Local residents said if
you didn’t like the weather this far north, just wait
fifteen minutes. She gave
it five, only to have the rain turn to sleet. Perhaps she should have asked more questions before
taking the job as editor of the Dunvegan Herald Weekly.
She was getting the peace and quiet she’d wanted, all right,
but so far the
weather simply sucked. Winter had been in full swing when
she’d arrived at the
end of October. Wasn’t it ever going to end? Sighing, she buttoned her thin jacket up to her chin
and hoisted the camera bag to her shoulder in preparation
for the long, cold
walk to her truck. All she wanted was a hot shower, her soft
flannel pajamas
with the little cartoon sheep on them, the TV turned to
Late Night,
and a cheese and mushroom omelet before bed. Hell, maybe
just the omelet. She
hadn’t eaten since noon, unless the three faded M&Ms
she’d found at the
bottom of her bag counted as food. As
usual, the council meeting for the Village of Dunvegan had
gone on much too
long. Who’d have thought that such a small community could
have so much
business to discuss? It was long after ten when the mayor,
the councilors, and
the remnants of a long-winded delegation filed out. Zoey had
lingered only a
few moments to scribble down a couple more notes for her
article but it was
long enough to make her the last person out of the building. The heavy glass door automatically locked behind her,
the metallic sound echoing ominously. Had she taken longer
than she thought? There
wasn’t a goddamn soul left on the street. Even the hockey
arena next door was
deserted, although a senior men’s playoff game earlier had
made parking
difficult to find. Now, her truck – a sturdy old red Bronco
that handled the
snow much better than her poor little SUV had – was the only
vehicle in sight. The freezing rain made the three-block trek to the
truck seem even longer. Not only did the cold wind drive
stinging pellets of
ice into her face, but her usual business-like stride had to
be shortened to
tiny careful steps. Her knee-high leather boots were
strictly a fashion
accessory – her bedroom slippers would have given her more
traction on the ice.
If she slipped and broke her ankle out here, would anyone
even find her before
morning? The truck glittered strangely as she approached and
her heart sank. Thick glass-like sheets of ice coated every
surface, sealing
the doors. Near-frozen herself, she pounded on the lock with
the side of her
fist until the ice broke away and she could get her key in.
"Come on, dammit,
come on!" Of course, the key refused to turn, while the cold
both numbed and hurt her gloveless fingers. She tried the
passenger door lock
without success then walked gingerly around to the rear
cargo door. No luck
there either. She’d have to call a tow – Except that her cell phone was on the front seat of
her truck. Certain that things couldn’t get any worse, she tested
each door again. Maybe one of the locks would loosen up if
she kept trying. If
not, she’d probably have to walk all the way home, and
wasn’t that a cheery
prospect? Suddenly a furtive movement teased at her peripheral
vision. Zoey straightened slowly and studied her
surroundings. There wasn’t
much to see. The streetlights were very far apart, just
glowing pools of pale
gold that punctuated the darkness rather than alleviating
it. Few downtown
businesses bothered to leave lights on overnight. The
whispery hiss of the
freezing rain was all that she could hear. A normal person would simply chalk it up to imagination
– but she’d been forced to toss normal out the window
at an early age.
Her mother, aunts and grandmother were all powerful psychics
– and the gene had
been passed down to Zoey. Or at least a watered-down version
of it. The talent
was reliable enough when it worked, but it seemed to come
and go as it pleased.
Like right now. Zoey tried hard to focus yet sensed
absolutely nothing.
It was her own fault perhaps for trying to rid herself of
the inconvenient
ability. No extrasensory power was needed, however, to see
something large and black glide silently from one shadow to
another near the
building she’d just left. What the hell was that?
There was nowhere to
go for help. Only the two bars would still be open but they
were several blocks
away, as was the RCMP detachment. There was a rundown
trailer park a block and
a half from the far side of the arena, but Zoey knew there
were no streetlights
anywhere along that route. A dog? Maybe it’s just a big dog, she thought. A
really big dog or a runaway cow. After all, this was a rural
community. And a northern
rural community at that, so maybe it was just a local
moose, ha, ha….
She struggled to keep her fear at bay and redoubled her
efforts on the door
locks, all the while straining to listen over the sound of
her own harsh
breathing. The rear door lock was just beginning to show promise
when a low, rumbling growl caused her to drop her keys. She
spun to see a
monstrous shape emerge from the shadows, stiff-legged and
head lowered. A
wolf? It was bigger than any damn wolf had a right to
be. Jesus. Some
primal instinct warned her not to run and not to scream,
that the animal would
be on her instantly if she did so. She backed away slowly, trying not to slip, trying to
put the truck between herself and the creature. Its eyes
glowed green like
something out of a horror flick, but this was no movie.
Snarling black lips
were pulled back to expose gleaming ivory teeth. The
grizzled gray fur around
its neck was bristling. Zoey was minutely aware that the
hair on the back of
her own neck was standing on end. Her breath came in short
shuddering gasps as
she blindly felt for the truck behind her with her hands,
sliding her feet
carefully without lifting them from the pavement. She made it around the corner of the Bronco. As soon
as she was out of the wolf’s line of sight, she turned and
half skated, half
ran for the front of the truck as fast as the glassy
pavement would allow. Don’t
fall, don’t fall! It was a litany in her brain as she
scrambled up the
slippery front bumper onto the icy hood. With no hope of
outrunning the
creature and no safe place in sight, the roof of the truck
seemed like her best
bet – if she could make it. Don’t fall, don’t fall!
Flailing for a
handhold, she seized an ice-crusted windshield wiper, only
to have the metal
frame snap off in her hand. She screamed as she slid back a
few inches. The wolf sprang at once. It scrabbled and clawed,
unable to find a purchase on the ice-coated metal. Foam from
its snapping jaws
sprayed over her as the beast roared its frustration.
Finally it slipped back
to the ground and began to pace around the truck. Zoey managed to shimmy up the hood until she was
able to put her back against the windshield with her knees
drawn up to her
chin. She risked a glance at the roof behind her – she had
to get higher.
Before she could move, however, the wolf attacked again,
scrambling its way up
the front bumper. Vicious jaws slashed at her at her.
Without thought, Zoey
kicked out at the wolf, knocking one leg out from under it.
It slid backwards
but not before it clamped its teeth on her calf. The
enormous weight of the
creature dragged at her and she felt herself starting to
slide…. One hand still clutched the broken windshield wiper
and she used it, whipping the creature’s face and muzzle
with the frozen blade
until she landed a slice across one ungodly glowing eye. The
rage-filled snarl
became a strangled yelp, the wolf released her leg and
slipped from the hood.
This time Zoey didn’t look, just turned and launched herself
upwards for the
roof rack. She came down hard, adrenaline keeping her from
feeling the impact
of the bruising metal rails. She was only conscious of the
desperate need to
claw and grasp and cling and pull until she was safely on
the very top of the
vehicle. Except she wasn’t safe. Not by a long shot.
Crap.
She could see plainly that she wasn’t high enough. Crap,
crap, crap. The
enraged wolf leapt upwards in spite of the fact that its
feet could find little
purchase on the ice-coated pavement. What it couldn’t gain
in momentum, it made
up for in effort, hurling itself repeatedly against the
Bronco. Its snapping
jaws came so close that Zoey could see the bleeding welts
across its face, see
that one of its hellish eyes was now clouded and
half-closed. She slashed at it
again, catching its tender nose so it howled in frustration
and pain as it
dropped to the ground. Snarling, it paced back and forth
like a caged lion,
watching her. Waiting. The wind picked up and the freezing rain intensified.
Huddled on her knees in the exact center of the icy roof,
Zoey’s adrenaline
began to ebb. She was cold and exhausted, and parts of her
were numb. But she
wasn’t helpless, she wouldn’t allow herself to think that
way. The thin
windshield wiper was badly bent and pieces of it were
missing now, but she’d
damn well punch the wolf in the nose with her bare fist if
she had to. If she
still could…. The wolf sprang again. * * * * Dr. Connor Macleod cursed himself for the hundredth
time for not bringing another veterinarian into his
practice. His family and
friends, and particularly his receptionist, had been on his
case about it for
the past two years. He’d always handled everything himself,
but it was time to
face facts: His practice had grown too large. The second calving season of the year was in full
swing and Connor had been out on farm calls since five
o’clock that morning. He
wouldn’t have minded except he’d only been in bed since four
after performing
an emergency caesarian on a heifer. That case had been touch
and go for most of
the night. He’d had a few choice words for the farmer who
had bred the young
animal to a bull of a much larger breed, creating a huge
calf that couldn’t
possibly be born on its own. The man had been defensive and
angry, but Connor
didn’t care. He had every patience with animals and none at
all for those who
deliberately misused them. Right now he had no patience left for anything and the
freakish weather didn’t improve his mood. He needed coffee.
And food. And
sleep, but that was less likely than the other two.
Thankfully he wasn’t human
and as long as he ate enough, his body could deal with a
serious sleep deficit
– at least for a while. As the lights of Dunvegan came into view, uneasiness
twisted his gut. The ice storm had been far more intense
here, the road glassed
over and treacherous, yet his feelings had nothing to do
with the driving
conditions. He switched off the radio and pulled to the side
of the road for a
few moments, needing to think, to focus and unravel the
sudden surge of
energies he sensed. Suddenly the darkness brightened as everything around
him – the dashboard, his hands on the steering wheel, the
road signs – began to
glow with a silvery light. It was a phenomenon that only he
could see, a
precursor to farsight…. He yelled out. He couldn’t help it. A hideous
premonition spawned a violent and bloody image in his mind.
A woman was in
terrible danger, and what was threatening her was no more
human than he was. In the blink of an eye the image was gone and the
otherworldly light yielded to the natural darkness. Connor
pulled back onto the
deserted highway and sped towards the village, heedless of
the glaring ice. The
truck had studded tires and four-wheel drive, both necessary
in harsh northern
winters and unpredictable northern springs, and Connor was a
skilled driver.
Nevertheless, his pickup stayed on the road largely because
he willed it
to. The vehicle fishtailed repeatedly but recovered each
time as he drove into
town and turned onto a side street. Close. He knew he was close, he could feel it.
Suddenly he swung hard onto Hemstock Avenue – where a huge
wolf leapt at a
parked truck. He leaned on the horn and stepped on the
accelerator as the
snarling creature fell back into the road. One eye flashed
green in the bright
headlights, as it turned to look at the oncoming truck – – then vanished without a trace. But not before Connor
recognized it: a Changeling. Like himself.
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