Home
for the Howliday
An Ushers Run Pack Novella
By Cassie Leigh
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Release Date: November 1, 2016
Free on
Kindle Unlimited
He may have given up
fighting, but he's in for the fight of his life...
Walking away from his
wolf pack duties and woman he loved was the hardest thing Gunner Thoren ever
did. But now, ten years later, the successful MMA fighter is giving up
the cage, and reclaiming what's always been his.
Before shifter witch
Noelle Hiver could give Gunner her heart, he was gone. And now that he's
back, someone else is determined to claim her as his mate. Refusing to be
marked by anyone other than the wolf she's loved for past ten years, Noelle
will do anything in her power to stay connected to Gunner. But the
jealous wolf who wants her for his own won't heel. Now it's up to Gunner
to protect the woman he's always loved and finally give Noelle the best gift of
the holiday season--his mark. Will the howlidays bring something for
Noelle and Gunner this Christmas?
Chapter 1
The sultry croon of “Santa Baby” blaring
through the crowded cabin might as well have been nails on a chalkboard to
Gunner Thoren. The eggnog and holiday cookie smorgasbord only added to his
irritation. For the hundredth time he questioned his motivation for coming back
into the fold. He’d walked away from a good thing in Las Vegas, to return home
to the wolf-pack town of Ushers Run, Iowa. “Eventually you all come home.”
Gunner shook the pack-elder’s voice from his already crowded mind. He’d met
with the old man along with the pack-leader, Ambrose. It was a lofty position
for his best friend to ascend to in Gunner’s absence. Then Ambrose blindsided
him with a compulsory invitation to attend the festivities this evening. It was
intended for the younger members. Some crap about pack bonding.
Gunner just wanted to enjoy being in nature.
It was the only part of being home that he looked forward to after a decade of
self-imposed exile. The bright lights of Las Vegas lacked a forest for his wolf
to run in. Wolves didn’t belong skulking through back alleys and desert
landscapes. At least Ambrose picked a nice spot in the woods for the cabin he’d
designed for the pack’s use. Too bad it was currently being overrun with
someone’s bastardized idea of Christmas cheer.
From his spot in the corner, Gunner sneered at
the garish holiday sweaters covered in ice skating reindeer and penguins
decorating evergreen trees. The pack he was born to, or at least this
generation of it, might be happy to prance around like drunken fools, but he
wouldn’t be caught dead participating in such stupidity. His brother, Asher,
loped toward him from across the room in the easy way that came with
overstimulated youth. Battery-powered twinkle lights wrapped around the kid’s
snowflake-covered sweater. It must have come out of their grandmother’s closet.
Asher grinned up at him. “You aren’t in party
gear, bro!”
Gunner growled and hunkered down in his
corner, unwilling to acknowledge the fool. This kid was why he gave up fighting
and the title shot he had worked for years to achieve. Now he would run his
family’s business—the local gym. With their father’s passing, his mother needed
the help keeping it from going under and his kid brother from tearing down half
the town with his idiocy. Less than two years until he graduated and Gunner
could take off again. He was already counting down the days.
“Never fear,” Asher said, undaunted by
Gunner’s stoicism. “I knew it would happen, so I brought an extra.”
Asher slapped his brother’s back and gave him
an ineffective shove that left the kid rubbing the sting out of his hand.
Gunner stood still as a mountain, which he was as a middleweight fighter. He
fought at 185 pounds but walked around closer to 220 between fights.
“Nothing’s wrong with my sweater,” Gunner
groused. He’d worn a normal sweater, a traditional Scandinavian pattern in grey
and navy. A respectable sweater, not some castoff thrift store reject.
“You’re not getting into the spirit,” Asher
said, his tone sullen and accusatory.
Feminine laughter that was equal parts wicked
and ethereal rose above the chaotic jumble of voices and crappy Christmas
pop-music. Gunner tuned out the useless prattle that continued to dump out of
his brother’s mouth, searching for the owner of that laugh as if it was a
homing beacon meant to draw him in.
“You’ve got enough for both of us.” Gunner
answered his brother to stop the distracting noise. He searched the nameless
faces. The laughter had stopped but he knew he hadn’t imagined its siren song.
That’s when Gunner saw her. The reason he left
town in the first place—Noelle Hiver. She moved like a Nordic goddess come to
life—a young and beautiful version of the Norns—as she stood in front of a
tinsel-draped tree talking with her hands as if they were weaving a tapestry to
illustrate her words. The multicolored lights that reflected off the metallic
decorations shone on her like a rainbow spotlight.
The little vixen was a dangerous temptation.
Her white sweater dress embroidered with silver poinsettias hugged her lithe
curves in places he knew his eyes shouldn’t linger—but he couldn’t stop
himself, just like before. No one should look at the pack-leader’s half-sister
that way, not if he wanted to keep his eyes. His illicit gaze continued the
treacherous journey north to wild platinum blonde hair that skimmed her slender
shoulders. He wanted a closer look, perilous as it was. He needed to know if
she still wore feathers braided in the riotous curls.
Noelle again laughed at something her
companion said, a woman who didn’t exist as far as Gunner was concerned, and it
rang like bells calling him home. She glanced his way and his heart nearly
stopped. Those eyes, guarded aquamarine glaciers, bored into him from across
the room and he was curious what the pack abomination had made of herself.
He’d never called her that, but nearly
everyone they knew had. A half-breed shifter witch was not welcome among
purebred werewolves, but her brother Ambrose, Gunner’s best friend, had changed
that when he took over, hadn’t he? At least for this one pack he had. Gunner
had never worried about any of that as she was just Noelle to him.
He closed his
eyes against visions of the past that clawed to the surface of his mind and
realized his brother was still talking. “Bro, hotties heading our way. It’s too
late to fix you now.” This time when Asher shoved, Gunner moved as his eyes
flew open. Just a step closer to her but it was as if he jumped a chasm.
Noelle sauntered toward him, her friend in
tow. A sweet smile spread across her pouty pink lips. A knowing smile. Gunner
steeled himself against its impact. He knew this would come when he made the
choice to return home. He just wasn’t ready to see her tonight or for her to
see him. But those lips brought a flash he’d give anything to forget, just to
relieve the torture.
An image of her broke through, unbidden, from
the past. That same smile as she sat waiting for him in the passenger seat of
his Camaro on another winter night, reaching for something other than the gear
shift, or at least not the one that belonged in his car.
“Gunner, fancy
seeing you here.” Noelle’s silken voice pulled him out of the past.
“You’re
brother’s invite clearly stated that I didn’t have a choice.”
Noelle smiled at
the growl in his voice, clearly finding some kind of perverse pleasure in his
words.
Asher glanced
from Gunner to Noelle. “Dude, you know her?”
Cassie Leigh specializes
in all things paranormal romance. She has been dreaming up stories since before
she could write. It started with recording conversations for her dolls on a Fisher-Price
tape recorder, moved on to an antique typewriter found at a garage sale, then
an electric typewriter, and finally computers. In all that time, she never
thought of herself as a writer. It was only a dream. It wasn’t until she picked
up romance novels in her late twenties that she started to believe it was more
than that and she had found where she belonged. With the help of her husband,
she carves out time to write while raising five children, working full time and
obsessing over her midcentury modern dream home.
Her goal as a
writer is to transform the trials and tribulations of everyday life and turn it
on its head using the paranormal world of spirits, vampires, and were-animals.
The world can be a scary place, but she finds it a little more tolerable
knowing that the supernatural things that go bump in the night have problems
just like the rest of us.
Want more? You
can connect with Cassie Leigh online.
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