I actually had a tough time picking out excerpts from this book. Hard to say why. So I thought I’d post the prologue here. The prologue takes place a year before most of the story takes place. There is a connection between the hero and heroine, but the romance has not yet begun.
By the way, the links are up and working. You can buy The Strength of the Pack here.
“You look lovely in the moonlight,” said Gordon Carver.
Jamie Buchner groaned. Not that she was ugly. She was fine. Whatever.
“And beautiful.” Gordon appeared to think generic flattery would affect her, but only the wine had gone to her head.
He touched her shoulder.
“Just leave me alone, will you?” She shrugged off his hand. Her husband might be Gordon’s employee but Derek’s duties did not include handing over his wife for the evening.
“Jamie,” crooned Gordon.
She cringed at his attempt to sound soothing.
“No,” she responded firmly, but he had drunk enough that he wasn’t going to listen to anything she said.
She sidestepped his next attempt to touch her. Where the hell was her husband? Derek was supposed to be with them in the backyard, admiring Gordon’s new gazebo.
Gordon clasped her forearm. She tried to jerk away and his grip tightened. Gordon, who had never done more than talk. Why was he coming on so strong now?
To her horror, he trapped her chin. His mouth fell on hers and she couldn’t escape his scotch-soaked tongue.
She swung hard. Her free arm came up, dislodging his grip. Wrenching free, she backed up, spitting in the space between them.
But Gordon backed away from her, too. Jamie’s scream lodged in her throat as she watched fear and revulsion play across Gordon’s face. She didn’t know what to make of his reaction.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Its trembling annoyed her. She refused to be frightened of this loathsome man. Who wasn’t even looking at her now. He stared into the shadows.
A growl, low and angry, made Jamie jump.
“I didn’t know you had a pet.” She tried to show she wasn’t shaken, though her voice was high and breathless. “Good dog.”
Without a word, Gordon turned and retreated to the house.
“Not yours then?” she whispered to his back. She rather wished the dog wasn’t between her and the house, but mostly she was overcome with relief. Gordon had never been so aggressive that she’d had to grapple with him. And to think that Derek, goddamn him, had told her to handle these episodes with his boss diplomatically.
The bushes rustled and she took a deep breath, peering into the shadows. After all, the dog had run Gordon off. He was her savior of sorts.
“Hey there. Great timing. I love you already.” Continue reading