What’s happening on Gemini Island? An excerpt.

As you may have already heard, Predator’s Trinity, Gemini Island Shifters 6, is about a month away from its release. I am already hard at work on book 7, tentatively called Predator’s Rescue. Some of my street team members have already read ARCs of Predator’s Trinity and reviews have been outstanding!

Don’t forget you can preorder it at a discount at http://www.lsbooks.com/pre-order-coming-soon-romance-books-c322.php as well as at Amazon at http://www.amazon.com/Predators-Trinity-Gemini-Island-Shifters-ebook/dp/B0121M1ZQW/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8. You’ll find it at other outlets soon.


Predator’s Trinity is the most explosive of all the books so far and when it came to plotting the final two books, I knew exactly where I had to take them.

For one, we had to venture away from the Ursa Resort for a short spell. When Jani and Fleur embark on their adventures, you will still be able to visit with Ryland and Lia and friends, but Jani and Fleur have business off the resort as well. Dangerous business.

I am also dealing with the rehabilitation of a certain female she-wolf. Now, I don’t want to give too much away because many of you haven’t been able to read Predator’s Trinity yet.  However, I thought it might be fun to share what I’m working on with book 7.

Please enjoy the following unedited excerpt from my work-in-progress, Predator’s Rescue:

Chapter 1

     Jani Fodor strode into the bar, expecting trouble. He knew he’d found it when every delinquent there turned to gape at him. He smelled it in the old sweat and beer-stained upholstery. The cockroach beating a hasty retreat toward the door only confirmed it.

The only people who frequented this pit were shifter thugs. And her.

He swallowed, tasting Fleur. She was near, or at least, she had been recently. Her green apple scent still clung to the air. Or was it possible it clung to him? He wasn’t sure anymore.

He breathed in deeply, utilizing his tiger shifter senses to the best of his ability. His pretty she-wolf might not be in common area of the bar, but she was close. He spied a couple of closed doors in back. Private rooms? They wouldn’t be private by the time he finished here.

Resisting the urge to tear those closed doors off their hinges, he sat at the bar and ordered a beer, taking stock of the situation. His back itched with all the gazes turned his way. He’d counted about fifteen shifters in the room, all dressed like bikers who hadn’t seen showers in months. Not good odds.

For them.

In his experience, even one pissed off shifter could take down several of his kind if given the right motivation. He had plenty.

Leveling his gaze at the bartender, Jani ignored the anxious frisson traveling along his spine.

“Haven’t seen you here before,” the bartender lisped through his missing teeth, setting a beer before him.

Jani didn’t touch the drink. Call him a snob but he didn’t like drinking from slimy glasses. “Where’s Fleur?”

The bartender grabbed an empty glass and wiped it with an even dirtier cloth, staring at everything but Jani. “Looks like it might rain. They called for five centimeters on the weather report.”

Jani’s tiger bristled, already eager to knock heads. He bit back the urge to lash out and continued on the diplomatic tack. “I didn’t come here for your thoughts on precipitation levels. Where is Fleur Bissette? I’ve asked around and I was told to come here.”

The man’s watery brown eyes seemed to grow more watery. “I don’t think I can help you.”

“Of course, you can. I can smell her perfume. She’s been here.” He motioned to the doors in back. “I could save you the trouble of telling me. I could poke around instead.”

“Now, now, buddy. I don’t know anyone by the name of … what did you call her, Fleur?”

Jani inhaled deeply, fearing his flared nostrils might actually make him resemble the angry tiger crouching inside his human body. “Let me explain something. Not only was I sent in the direction of this bar, I was told to talk to the bartender. So unless there are a few more urine-peddling publicans behind this counter, it would seem you are my man. My source said Fleur has worked here in the past and that she recently picked up a couple of waitressing shifts.” He sighed. “Which makes you a terrible liar, my friend.”

The bartender’s gaze landed on the tense muscles at Jani’s shoulders. “Listen here, friend. I don’t want any trouble.”

“I’m not offering it to you, unless of course you continue to lie.”

A few of the men in the back of the bar stood and meandered close to Jani, listening to the exchange, clearly hoping to see a fight. With his tiger shifter senses, Jani could almost hear the quickening of their excited pulses. They wanted a brawl? Good. He was in the mood for one, too.

The tiger inside him snarled, eager to spill blood. His spirit animal was mad. Ever since Fleur had run away, ever since he’d lost her scent, the animal had been ravenous. Neither of them trusted her on her own. She was confused, distraught.

And although she might not be willing to admit it, she needed him.

He spun around on his bar stool and leaned back on the bar. “Ah, more new friends. How kind of you to welcome me.”

One of the men, a big grizzly shifter, spat on the floor. “This ain’t no welcome, kitty cat.”

Another man sniffed. “Where are you from anyway? You talk funny.”

Jani resisted the urge to slap him. As chief advisor to the Grand Prince of the federation of Hungarian tribes, he commanded respect back home in Budapest. Of course, these hicks from backwoods Northern Ontario wouldn’t understand. “None of your business.”

The first man, a great oaf if Jani had ever seen one, picked at Jani’s jacket lapel. “We don’t like foreigners who ask questions.”

Once again, Jani’s temper flared but he swallowed his simmering rage. He stood and raised his voice so he could be heard over the tinny country music from the jukebox. “Now I’m going to ask everyone here in this shithole one more time. I’m looking for Fleur Bissette. Where is she?”

There was a crash and a feminine cry from behind one of the closed doors. Jani didn’t hesitate. He launched himself off his stool and toward the door, already on the verge of shifting. His tiger hairs danced under his skin, ready to burst through his pores.

The two men who’d approached him grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled him back.

“Hey, asshole,” the grizzly man shouted. “You’re not allowed back there.”

Jani glanced at the hand on his shoulder and then at the man. “One warning. Take your hands off me.”

The idiot snorted and looked at his pal. “Why waste your time lookin’ for Fleur anyway? That girl’s nothing but trouble. Trouble loves her. In fact, she’s probably spreading her legs to trouble right now.”

Jani reached for the man’s arms and spun him around. “What did you say?”

“It’s all the bitch knows how to do. That’s all women like her are good for anyway.”

Jani reared back and let his fist fly, cracking it against the man’s face. The grizzly shifter flew across the room, hitting the back wall, collapsing to the floor. The grim satisfaction of seeing the man crumple overrode any pain in his knuckles. In fact, it felt so good to hit the jackass he had to hold his hand behind his back so he wouldn’t hit him again.

No one, no one, insulted Fleur. The man was lucky Jani didn’t kill him for the slight. Fleur had been called too many names in her time, and he’d made it his mission to see she was never belittled again.

Jani nodded toward the other men. “Don’t even think of stopping me.”

He tried the closed door, relieved to find it unlocked. He flung the door open and his tiger senses homed in on her immediately.

Fleur had clearly been serving drinks to the small group of shifter bikers inside, but one of them had gotten a little too close to the new waitress. Her tray of drinks lay on the floor, smashed, and one of the men had her over his lap. His large hand caressed her ass as she squirmed in his grip.

As time seemed to freeze for Jani, Fleur glanced back at him.

“Jani,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. Her dark eyes seemed to grow darker, black with emotion, but he didn’t take time to analyze the sentiment flitting behind her irises.

With a roar that must have sounded more animal than man, Jani raced toward her and pulled her off the man’s lap. He shoved her toward the door, so she wouldn’t be hurt in the melee. He then turned to the shithead who’d grabbed her, a growl emanating from his furious core.

The biker, startled and likely drunk, didn’t react quickly enough to shift. Jani hauled him off his chair and thrust him toward the wall.

“Jani,” Fleur called. “Don’t. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“His hand was on your ass. I know enough.”


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