Post by L. Shannon on Jun 18, 2006 8:32:44 GMT -6
Eagle Clan: Father of the Wolf
by L. Shannon
Release date: June 30th
Cobblestone Press
cobblestone-press.com/comingsoon.htm
What happens when a clan of werewolves decides to rejoin the world in the twentieth century after three centuries of isolation? Athair and his adopted sons only want to find mates to strengthen their clan, and instead land in the middle of a brewing war, where honor and courage may be all that can save humanity.
FATHER OF THE WOLF won third place in the LERA Rebecca contest!!
Excerpt for Father of the Wolf
She opened her eyes and saw that Athair was barely visible in his central position. The air surrounding him shimmered and crackled. Like the tides, it poured away from him, and then was pulled back. The candle light over these waves of energy made it appear that the air itself was dancing over him. As the wave patterns intensified, she could no longer see his wolf form at all.
She suddenly felt weak. Wondering if perhaps it was her energy that flowed around him, she closed her eyes and relaxed back into her chair.
Hope quieted as the chant changed. The difference was subtle, and she soon found the words again. The ceremony was beautiful. She hoped that later he would tell her the meaning of the soothing words.
Her eyes flew open in surprise when a deep male voice joined the chant. Athair's voice was soft and deep, with a strong accent. She had never noticed an accent in his 'mind voice'. This voice was masculine and tingled across her skin in a peculiar, comforting way.
His voice changed the rhythm of the chant again. Hope stilled her voice, unable to find the new words. She sat quietly and watched as the energy slowed its tidal motion and seemed to withdraw into Athair. As it did, he became more visible.
He was no longer a wolf.
He was a man. A large, very attractive man. He was well over six feet tall, and he stood with his back to her.
And what a back! His hair, which was the same varied brown shade of his former pelt, fell neatly over shoulders that were broad and well muscled. His back and waist were trim and hard. And the man had a rear that made her suck in her breath in appreciation.
She knew she would pass out if he turned around. Unless of course, he had a face like Marmaduke. Surely not. Well, regardless. That beautiful back left her panting.
by L. Shannon
Release date: June 30th
Cobblestone Press
cobblestone-press.com/comingsoon.htm
What happens when a clan of werewolves decides to rejoin the world in the twentieth century after three centuries of isolation? Athair and his adopted sons only want to find mates to strengthen their clan, and instead land in the middle of a brewing war, where honor and courage may be all that can save humanity.
FATHER OF THE WOLF won third place in the LERA Rebecca contest!!
Excerpt for Father of the Wolf
She opened her eyes and saw that Athair was barely visible in his central position. The air surrounding him shimmered and crackled. Like the tides, it poured away from him, and then was pulled back. The candle light over these waves of energy made it appear that the air itself was dancing over him. As the wave patterns intensified, she could no longer see his wolf form at all.
She suddenly felt weak. Wondering if perhaps it was her energy that flowed around him, she closed her eyes and relaxed back into her chair.
Hope quieted as the chant changed. The difference was subtle, and she soon found the words again. The ceremony was beautiful. She hoped that later he would tell her the meaning of the soothing words.
Her eyes flew open in surprise when a deep male voice joined the chant. Athair's voice was soft and deep, with a strong accent. She had never noticed an accent in his 'mind voice'. This voice was masculine and tingled across her skin in a peculiar, comforting way.
His voice changed the rhythm of the chant again. Hope stilled her voice, unable to find the new words. She sat quietly and watched as the energy slowed its tidal motion and seemed to withdraw into Athair. As it did, he became more visible.
He was no longer a wolf.
He was a man. A large, very attractive man. He was well over six feet tall, and he stood with his back to her.
And what a back! His hair, which was the same varied brown shade of his former pelt, fell neatly over shoulders that were broad and well muscled. His back and waist were trim and hard. And the man had a rear that made her suck in her breath in appreciation.
She knew she would pass out if he turned around. Unless of course, he had a face like Marmaduke. Surely not. Well, regardless. That beautiful back left her panting.