I’ve been struggling with the opening scene for Mel and Snake’s book. I’ve started it three times, each in a different place. I think I’ve settled on this one. It’s very bare bones right now, and I’ll go in later and add some detail and description, but here it is.

Chapter 1

“Incoming!”

The distant shout jerked Mel’s head up from the big pot of stew she stirred. Sara punched the bread dough down and laid a damp towel over the bowl with a frown. “What was that?” the teenager asked.

“Strangers are coming.” Mel put the lid on the stew pot and grabbed a rifle from the rack by the kitchen door to hand to Sara. “You know how to use this?”

Sara grabbed another towel to wipe her hands clean of bread dough before taking the rifle. “Of course.”

The teenager checked to see if the rifle was loaded. Mel approved the easy familiarity she showed as she handled the rifle. “Come on. We need to close the doors and windows and head upstairs to the safe room.”

Even as she spoke Mel slammed the iron-reinforced shutters closed over the kitchen window. Sara hurried to the back door off the mudroom and closed it. The lock fell into place with a loud metallic click that relieved a tiny bit of Mel’s anxiety. Mel took the other rifle from the rack and ran into the hall that led past the living room to the front door. Before she reached the entryway, two large gray-furred wolves barreled into her, hackles raised, toenails scraping over the worn tile.

Mel, scrambling for balance, tried to determine which of the wolves was her husband. Snake was a bit bulkier than his cousin Stone, his fur slightly darker, but she couldn’t tell who was who until the wolves morphed into naked men. Snake, the man she’d married only twenty-four hours ago, gripped her shoulders.

“Mike and Mord are two miles out,” he said in a rapid voice. “Marc will be here in a minute. He’ll bar the front door. Me and Stone are going to the bunkhouse. You and Sara cover the yard from upstairs.”

Mel touched the butt of her pistol. “Okay. Who’s coming? How many?”

Snake’s face, never as soft and pretty as Stone’s, hardened. “Fosses,” he spat.

I’ve finished the rough draft of Wolf’s Oath and it’s with the beta readers right now. I will be working on Wolf’s Vengeance next, but of course Sky and Rose are demanding my attention. Here is a little snip of one of the turning points in the story. Sky has brought Rose to Omaha, but they’ve seen very little of each other.

Rose stared at Sky, not recognizing the impetuous boy whose wolf had claimed her in this slick, handsome stranger dressed in a city business suit.  “I don’t know you,” she whispered. Loss and bewilderment  made her eyes smart. “You dragged me away from home and brought me here so we could get to know each other, but it’s been a week and I’ve barely seen you, much less talked to you. I want to go home.”

He smoothed the lapel of his silk suit with that condescending expression she loathed. “The world doesn’t revolve around you, princess. I’m in the middle of some very delicate negotiations right now, and having to go and fetch you has put me seriously behind schedule. By next weekend I should have some time free for you.”

“Really.” Her lips felt stiff. “Next weekend? So generous of you to squeeze me into your schedule. You know what? Don’t bother. I’m going home. I repudiate your claim.”

Finally  those cool, cobalt eyes sparked with honest emotion. “You want to see more of me? Fine. The only free time I have is at night. I’ll have Katelyn move your things to my room.”

Between the overtime at the day job and having two releases this week, It’s been a crazy! I totally missed doing my Tuesday Teaser. I thought about just skipping it this week, but I am THIS close to having the rough draft of Wolf’s Oath finished. So here is a snippet for you.

Ice gleamed smooth and slick on the moonlit road and stung the pads of his paws, but Des, trailed by Hawk on his right and Red Wing his left, didn’t stop running. Dawn was only a few hours away, and they could have stayed at the den, but they all wanted their mates. Heartsick, weary, and wounded, Des needed Connie like a starving man needed food. He needed to burrow his face into the warmth of her neck and release his grief into her keeping. He needed the touch of her hands on his body, her lips on his brow. Not for sex, but to fill the hole grief had torn in his heart.

They stopped in front of the gate at the Plane Women’s House and changed back to their man shapes. It would have been quicker to leap over the fence, but the guards from Kearney might have been alarmed and shot them. So they waited, naked in the wind, for the guard to open the gate for them.

Once inside, the three of them nodded at each other, eyes dark with the weary pain of grief, and parted to seek the solace their mates could give them. Hawk and Red Wing didn’t know which room their mates were in, so they used their noses to search out their scents. Des remembered very well which door led to Connie’s apartment. He turned the knob and ghosted through the empty communal area to the door that opened to her private room.

She was a tightly curled ball under the layers of bedding, only a few disheveled locks of pale hair showing on the pillow. He stood above her and inhaled her precious scent. It was laden with the saltiness of tears and faintly soured by fear. His hand trembled when he reached to touch her hair.

“Connie,” he whispered, his voice the merest thread of sound, perhaps too low for human ears to hear, but she woke with a start.

“Des?”

He took her searching hand in the dark and lifted it to his cheek, and then his lips.

“Yes, love.”

“Oh, God, you’re back!” She struggled to uncurl from the bedclothes and sit up. “Are you okay? Is everyone else okay?”

The grief, lifted momentarily by the sweet scent of her concern, sank back into his heart like a stone in a pond and stole his voice.

“Des?” she said again. Her groping hand brushed over the bullet hole in his shoulder. He jerked in a breath through his teeth. “Des! Are you hurt? Where’s that damned candle?”

He glanced around the room, dark to her human eyes, and found the candle on the ledge beside the door. He left her long enough to light it and carry it back to the small bedside table.