Excerpt! Excerpt!

It’s time again! and I’m not sure if it’s my new outlook on life, or the fact that I just really like this book, but I’m so excited for you guys to see, read and love this one along with me

 

So let’s give a big welcome to Moonlit Wolves #5 and don’t forget the giveaway is still on, click here (after you read this) and join in on the fun!

 

 

Déjá vú, but can Kyle change the way it all went down last time, so he can keep the only man he ever loved.

 

Standing over another mutilated person, Kyle knows the rogue werewolf is back. He’d seen this before, year ago, when everything turned to shit.

Brad was in two minds about coming back to his hometown after running away because of a kiss—that resulted in his best mates murder. When his mentor asks for his help, Brad agreed a little too easily.

An excuse to run into the one man he’d been pinning over for two long now. Why he can’t get Kyle out of his head Brad isn’t sure. However, as soon as he locks eyes with Kyle, the fresh wash of lust tells him he may never be able to.

Can a goal to hunt down the rogue that took their friends life—the reason they had been apart—be a reconnecting they both so desperately need?

 

Note: highly recommended to read this series in order

 

 

***

 

It was happening again… Oh, God, it can’t be. This can’t be happening. But it was. Shit, it was. Pete all over again.

Jack, their friendly barkeeper, lay on the needled infested ground. Eamon, the boss—Chris’ much better, smoother half, was something of a solid leader type with the edge of a nerd who hated them calling him boss so much that they couldn’t help it.

Craig, Phil’s scarier, werewolf hunter mate was kneeling over the body of their ripped up friend—clearly done by claws and teeth. Needle in hand, he and Eamon stitched savage-looking wounds as Jake lay unconscious.

“Reminds me of Pete,” Kyle said as he looked down at the mess, but came up with something altogether different—different legs, different torso, different scene. Pete lying on the edge of the road, discarded like trash, a creek of blood trailing its way into the undergrowth of the forest it came from.

Dead. The man that Kyle had loved, lying dead mere hours after they had fought their last fight.

His chest hurt, squeezing tight around his heart. His muscles pulled tightly around the bones, his joints hurting from the hold. He felt it in an out of body way, but couldn’t breathe enough to relax himself.

He was in the past, right there when they had gotten the call out from Paul to say that Pete hadn’t made it to work. Kyle guessed it was lucky he had a job that needed him, and a boss that actually gave two shits about him because it had only been a half hour before Kyle hit the road with James and Gene looking to see what had gone down. Hoping, with an absolute certainty that the idiot had broken down and forgotten his phone—it wasn’t an odd call, Pete never really cared for anything as mundane as technology. Or was it more that forgetfulness of not caring about it?

He laughed, a sob locked tight in his chest. His knees buckled. He couldn’t get out of where he’d been, couldn’t fight the memory that was drowning him where he hadn’t been able to let himself think about until this very moment. So much heartache and regret came from such a short span of time in his life.

The car had been abandoned. Though it had broken down, his phone lay dead on the passenger seat. The doors were locked, and everything looked to be as it should. Fear had lodged in his throat as he looked into the car. His heart beat in his ears, throat, and his fingertips as he looked up and down the road. Everything seemed fine, but Kyle had never felt anything so wrong in his life.

Frantic without a cause, Kyle had scrambled down the road, calling for the others to go the other way. There was no way Pete would go into the trees. No way in fucking hell would he do something so stupid. It wasn’t that he couldn’t, that it wasn’t ever done, but more so that these woods were a trap—a maze with no answer. Each side that wasn’t lined with roads led into pine tree farms, each set in lines and columns. There were no reference points in those trees. Nothing that showed you were where you were. It was literally a chance at luck to walk into these woods and come out where you started, let alone if you wandered in through the national forest.

It hadn’t taken them—Kyle—long to find him. Dumb luck on his part for the choice he made to go into town. He called, screamed. Kyle really wasn’t sure what he had done on those first few moments to alert the others that he had him. Or how loud he must have been. Kneeling alongside the ripped up side of Pete, Kyle put his hands on the man’s chest, just touching, letting the warmth of the man he loved—he’d been intimate with—sink deep into his skin as he cooled.

“He’s dead,” was all Kyle said. It was all he could remember of anything that happened through the coming months. It wasn’t that he hadn’t lived, but that the memory, the events and then more so, the loss, had rattled him so much that he just didn’t want to remember any of it. So he didn’t. To this day, he couldn’t remember the big events that happened. It was hell to figure out the little ones.

“Kyle, man,” Gene said at his side. He’d been talking for a while now, but Kyle hadn’t heard a word. “You need to—yeah, mate, like that, in and out. This isn’t like before. Jack’s gonna be fine. We aren’t losing another one to this arse. Okay.”

Kyle nodded. There really wasn’t anything else to do, but nod, and suck up all his own bullshit and move on, and live this life he’d been thrown. Head the way he’d been shown.

Taking a deep breath, Kyle straightened, pushing Gene off him immediately. He relaxed all his muscles one by one as he let his mind physically push out the memories of that time, by telling himself that this was different, not only in the fact that this time the guy would survive, but because it was the only way to see this and function. This was something completely different, and yet it was his chance at retribution—vengeance, against the very thing that took Pete away from this world.

Which at the base of it all, this wasn’t the reason that the memories pained him so. Nor was it the worse that had happened in those months that had been spinning out of control in his own misery. At least now, he could make up for one of them.

“Do you hear that?” Adam’s soft, almost boyish voice said as he looked out into the distance.

“What is it?” Craig asked, his attention on completing his task, though to Kyle, it looked almost done.

“A car,” he replied a little hesitant.

“Phil, then.”

“Nah. Phil’s already here,” Gene muttered.

“Okay,” Eamon said standing up, “This will have to do for the moment. Boys, get him in the car now.”

They did. It was the weird thing about Eamon and more to the point for them calling him boss. It had been like this since they met Eamon. Something about him made them want to roll onto their back and beg for a treat. It was odd, and yet it was so completely natural that they hardly noticed it at first.

Gene, Colin, and Kyle were the ones that ended up carrying Jake to the car. It was necessary, for the man wasn’t small and with the added dead weight, they were the only ones that could do it. Well, maybe James could, but the bitch was too vain for the whole heavy lifting shit that this clearly was.

The jeep was ready; and they loaded him into the back, Eamon and Craig already waiting, needle and thread in hand waiting to get started again. Phil was in the driver seat, ready to peel out when they all got in. Adam and Chris were already in the car, James, waiting at the door, holding it open for them to get in.

Loose dirt kicked up when the car came around the corner. It was still too early in the morning for them to see what type of vehicle it was, and, yeah, maybe the distance didn’t help, but the car was coming in fast.

“Come back for us,” Kyle said as he shifted himself out of the back of the car.

Craig, before all the words came out of his mouth followed him with a backpack he hadn’t had before in his hand. The boot shut with a loud bang and the car’s engine revved before Phil started driving off, swerving slowly around the car when they got close. He wasn’t running, or at least he didn’t look like he was running, but just driving away after a drop. At least that was what Kyle was really hoping that’s what it looked like, because they really couldn’t afford to be looked at any other way.

Looking around as the car slowed down in front of them, Kyle noticed that four of them stayed, Gene, James, and Craig. All of them were trying to look innocent as they stood in trackies and nothing else, except Craig, and he didn’t think the man wanted anyone to be looking into it.

This wasn’t looking all that great since the car that stopped in front of them was a deep green commodore—a fucking undercover cop car. The headlights highlighted the road in front of them, still dark enough that they worked, but not real effective.

The doors clunked open slowly, and both men got out, exactly the same way—slow, easy movements, which almost seemed rehearsed.

“Fuck me,” Craig whispered, though Kyle was sure they all heard it. “Michael? That you, mate?”

“Brad…” Kyle whispered, his eyes, his heart, and his very soul froze on the spot at the sight of the man that got out of the passenger seat. The same man whose eyes where wide, and his mouth hung open as he clung to the car door like it was his only link to the world.

“Well, fuck me dead, it is, too,” Gene said, never really knowing the emotions of the others around him, not if it meant that he couldn’t talk. “It’s been awhile, hasn’t it Brad?”

A little bit of scorn laced that name, but then, Gene knew the truth, as did most of the boys that he lived with—Kyle’s Mate had just come home

 

A Werewolf’s Howl by Bronwyn Heeley

Release date 15th of May 2014

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