Wolves of Willow Bend
Rogue Wolf
Releasing February 27, 2015
The Italian Alpha, Salvatore Esposito, crossed an ocean and dared to venture into unfriendly territory to hunt for his missing sister in Willow Bend. He’ll do anything to get her back, even if it means he must resist chasing the fierce enforcer who wakens his primal beast…anything.
As an enforcer, Margo Montgomery monitors the lone wolves. She is in the middle of investigating missing wolves from multiple territories when the order comes in to escort the Salvatore to Willow Bend. There’s bad blood between her and the current Alpha of Willow Bend, but they soon discover a new danger—a lone wolf gone rogue.
Now Margo must hunt the rogue—a pursuit made all the more dangerous because it becomes readily apparent the rogue they seek isn’t alone and Salvatore refuses to be left behind—not when wolves are vanishing without a trace…Â
Rogue Wolf
Book #4 in the Wolves of Willow Bend Series
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Series Reading Order:
Wolf at Law (Prequel)
Book 1: Wolf Bite
Book 2: Caged Wolf
Book 3: Wolf Claim
Book 4: Rogue Wolf
About the Author:
Heather Long
National bestselling author, Heather Long, likes long walks in the park, science fiction, superheroes, Marines, and men who aren’t douche bags. Her books are filled with heroes and heroines tangled in romance as hot as Texas summertime. From paranormal historical westerns to contemporary military romance, Heather might switch genres, but one thing is true in all of her stories—her characters drive the books. When she’s not wrangling her menagerie of animals, she devotes her time to family and friends she considers family. She believes if you like your heroes so real you could lick the grit off their chest, and your heroines so likable, you’re sure you’ve been friends with women just like them, you’ll enjoy her worlds as much as she does.
Contact Details:
Website: https://www.heatherlong.net
Email: heather@heatherlong.net
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/HeatherLongAuthor
Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/HVLong
Excerpt:
Five cups of coffee and over a thousand miles later, she waited against the wall in the international arrivals area of Midway airport. Julian came through with the name of the airline—a flight via Canada—and the time of arrival. They had no photo of the Alpha and only his name. Plenty of humans stood around holding placards with names written on them. Margo didn’t bother.
The number of scents trailing around her—from the over-perfumed to the under-bathed—threatened to give her a headache. She’d taken an hour at a hotel to shower and change into fresh clothes. Fortunately, she hadn’t bloodied any clothes on her current assignment. Jeans, boots and a denim jacket over a dark green turtleneck fit for the current weather outside. She didn’t stand out, though a number of human males gave her a lingering look. Ignoring them, she scanned the new arrivals passing through the sliding glass doors with their bags.
Arms folded, she braced one foot against the wall. More arrivals spilled through the doors into the early morning light. She dismissed three men immediately. One dripped sweat, the second dripped illness, and the third—her nostrils flared—he avoided looking at anyone. She may not know her target’s appearance, but no Alpha walked with their head down and their gaze on the path in front of them.
A collection of women came through, all chattering about the delicious passenger—his height, his accent, his eyes—on their flight. Home from a holiday it would seem, and apparently the view on the plane trumped anything they’d seen on the ground.
The doors swished apart and fresh odors wafted toward her. Sampling the air, she scented him before she saw him. The hint of sweet-floral fragrance with an element of citrus, but beneath it all a distinctly masculine bite of hot sun on fur, and something her wolf couldn’t sort out.
A stream of businessmen waded through the travelers. Their suits were a dead giveaway, though so were the harried looks, cell phones in hand and rumpled appearances. Dismissing one after another, she stilled.
Awareness swept over her and she canted her head slowly to find one man had stopped a half-dozen feet away. Well over six feet in height, he towered over her five-foot-ten frame. Jet black hair crowned a deeply tanned face. Black eyes—true black, so dark she couldn’t make out a pupil—stared at her. Read the rest of this entry »