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Saturday, September 29, 2018

Snippet Saturday - Claiming her Leopard

Claiming her Leopard
by Summer Donnelly

Available for pre-order, fan pricing for 99c!!

Writing this book made me laugh, made me cry, and made me cheer. Researching it was painful as I learned about the soldiers we sent to Vietnam.

Nick Lowell is a first generation shifter, sent to Vietnam in 1966. 

At first, this was going to be a "short" story but both Nick and Dottie had too much to say. How could I confine their story to a quarter of its size? 

I hope you enjoy their romance. I'm breaking new ground with an older hero and heroine. I hope you enjoy this snippet.

Go get you a leopard shifter to fall in love with!!

<<<>>>

Nick
The man within the leopard came to life. Not with a slow opening of a flower or the gradual warming of spring but all at once. Like the pop of opening a can of beer, he went from sleepy and dozing within his leopard form to high alert and near panic. 
Memories cascaded into him like colors of the dawn. The Drill Instructors who once pushed him through their paces. Their job was to break them down in order to create fighters. To build warriors. Killers. In his mind, his hands clenched. Like a muscle memory over fifty years old, he remembered firing his military issued rifle until the barrel turned white and burned his hands. 
Meeting Dottie on leave with one of his buddies. Nick’s parents in Pennsylvania were out of town, so the two men drove through the night and into the next day for a three-day leave in Maine. 
There had been a dance. At a high school, maybe? The VFW hall? It was so long ago, he couldn’t remember. But there she’d been with her long straight hair and her mini-skirt. 
She’d been so young. Nick snorted, surprised to hear a strangled sound coming from his leopard’s throat. He’d been in leopard form more than his human body for the last few years. 
Like a shield, Nick’s mind didn’t want to think about why he preferred being in his leopard form. Some memories were best buried.
Instead, his mind returned to the girl who would become his wife. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. They’d both been young. Babies, really, but their love made them invincible. He’d proposed almost immediately and got her to a local judge as she’d said yes. 
He hadn’t wanted to give her the opportunity to change her mind. But more than that, he’d read the contract for undergoing the DNA splicing operation. Wives were definitely not an option. 
But Nick had always been a beg for forgiveness over asking for permission kind of man. Their under-the-radar marriage happened only days before he’d signed the paperwork to become spliced. What else could the military do but accept it? 
More memories. This time, it was the unforgettable pain of recovering from the surgery which changed his life forever. The agony he’d felt as his muscles and tendons moved with his first shift. During his time at the Lusty Leopard, Nick had talked to later generations of shifters. The doctors and scientists had improved their methods and training. It didn’t hurt as much anymore, he’d been told. 
Once the man allowed the memories to course through, they turned into rapid-fire snapshots of his life. His buddies in the unit he was assigned to, relying on his leopard’s senses to determine friend from foe in a country nine thousand miles away from home. 
There were the smells, too, of course. With his enhanced sense of smell, he could still remember the way cordite hung in the air after a firefight. The pungent odor of rice paddy mud. The mud in Vietnam smelled foul. Ancient. The iron smell of blood as it clung to your skin, stuck and drying. No, those memories were always nearby. 
Other memories. Laughing with his buddies as they were clearing brush to create a camp. A peculiar word he and his fellow grunts used. Buddies but never friends. 
There’s an unwritten rule in war. Don’t get close to men who are going to die. Friends were too intimate. Too close. 
And in a jungle so far away from home, Nick Lowell had learned to put distance between himself and the men surrounding him.
<<<>>>

Ready to read the rest?

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07HT63RSM




Saturday, September 22, 2018

A Bear Shifter Thanksgiving Romance - Snippet Saturday

Snippet Saturday - Cloudy with a Chance of a Thanksgiving Romance by Summer Donnelly

Moving forward, I want to take Silver Fells into a fun, new direction. Cage fighting meets shifters with a heavy dose of romance? Hopefully, you'll want to sign up for a regular dose.

I have two holiday short stories coming out in anthologies. First up, a Thanksgiving soft intro into the BKB - the Bear Knuckle Brawlers.

Meet Tank Walker and Bree O'Shea. Tank is in Silver Fells to train with Zane Dixon (you'll meet him in November's book!) Bree is a teacher taking care of her little brother after the death of their parents.



“Stop! Thief!”
Twenty-eight-year-old bear shifter Tank Walker looked up in time to see a young kid, no more than thirteen, dart between customers on the streets of Silver Fells, North Carolina.
Tank hadn’t been in the small town long enough to determine if there was a criminal element but found it hard to believe anyone would be moved to theft in the idyllic village teeming with shifters.
“It’s that O’Shea brat again. I wish his sister would either get him in juvie or control him.”
It wasn’t that long ago that would have been him the shopkeepers were talking about, he thought. Whoever the O’Shea kid was, Tank felt an instant kinship.
Oh, no, not that Walker kid again.
Hide the merchandise, Buddy, it’s the Walker kid again.
Be home before dark, Angie. The Walker boy is out on parole.
Tank sniffed out the kid and followed at a sedate pace. Running would only set the boy in a panic. Eventually, he’d get tired, rest. And that’s when Tank would pounce.
He wouldn’t hurt the kid. Just scare him a little bit. Make sure he returned whatever bit of merchandise he’d stolen. It was the Monday before Thanksgiving. Maybe the kid was out doing a little early Christmas shopping, five finger discount style.
Tank didn’t consider himself a knight in shining armor or anything. His record was too dirty to ever be that. But, he was good with his hands.
Maybe a little too good. Tank smirked thinking of the things he’d stolen in his youth. The turn styles he’d jumped. The pockets he’d picked.
It wasn’t until Tank had tried to pick the pocket of a bear shifter—an honest to God bear shifter!—that Tank had been scared straight.
He chuckled at the memory of Seth Law. Seth was a big dude but the way he’d been dressed, Tank had been confident he was the original Lord Prep and Douche. An easy mark, for sure.
Except Seth was anything but a victim.
Tank rounded the corner, seeing the O’Shea kid panting as he hid behind some garbage cans.
“O’Shea,” Tank called, coming up behind him.
The kid startled but Tank’s right hand was quicker. It contacted with the boy’s shoulder in a vicelike grip.
O’Shea’s foot shot out to kick him. Tank rolled his eyes at the boy’s feeble attempts. “Look,” he said, grabbing O’Shea’s right hand in both of his hands. Tank brought his hand down and swung his left hand over the kid’s head, positioning him for a standing armbar. “I don’t want to hurt you. Just make it right for the folks you stole from. They didn’t do nothing to you.”
“What are you, a goon squad? Get off me, asshole.”
“Stealing is wrong,” Tank said calmly. “Now, we can go easy or hard, but you’re going back to that shop, returning whatever you lifted, and apologizing. Got it?”
O’Shea swung with his left hand, a weak punch that glanced off Tank’s ribs. “Hard way it is,” Tank said, applying just the slightest amount of pressure to set the armbar. Not a lot, just enough until realization set in the kid’s eyes.
For Tank, control was everything.
“Get off my brother, you big jerk!” Thwack!
“What the?” Tank muttered, letting go of the kid to deal with the banshee hitting him with what felt like a bag of bricks.
“Go pick on someone your own size!”

<<<>>>

This is just a short story. Please let me know if you'd like to read a full-length book about these two. As I get a link for the antho, I'll update and share!!

Facebook fan group (First chance at ARC): https://www.facebook.com/groups/SummerDreamers/





xoxo

Summer

Saturday, September 8, 2018

Who are the Shifter Special Forces?

I wanted a rare sub-set of humans. Like Navy SEALs or Marines but you know. I little fuzzier.

The first book that came to me was Creole James' book. It slammed into me, pretty much fully formed. Unfortunately, it needed to be set up. Cree is a great character and I love him and his devotion to his mate, but he needed a bigger universe to hang the story on.

That's how Quinn's book became first in the series. I needed an alpha. But, if you've read Quinn's book (wait! you didn't? well, get on over to Amazon and go get you a Mastiff shifter), you'll know he's a calm alpha. With mountain lions, bears, leopards, and more floating around I wanted an animal that could herd them all AND remain calm.

The town and the world have grown and will hopefully continue to grow. I've got lots of books and stories in me and I hope you join me on my journey!

The newest book in the series is Interview with Her Bear where we meet Lana and Jason. I hope you enjoy!

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07GV3VHMC


Snippet from Interview:

“This reminds me of that scene in Cinderella where the Grand Duke is looking for the girl who will fit the glass slipper.”
A hint of a grin played around Jason’s mouth as he lifted her worn canvas and rubber sneaker up so the moon illuminated it. The soles were worn thin in places, the shoelaces were patched, and the canvas was full of holes. “This is a far cry from Cinderella’s shoes.”
Luna giggled, ducking her chin to hide behind a curtain of platinum blonde hair. “It’s the thought that counts,” she argued.
Jason’s hands paused as he slipped off one pump. He placed it next to Luna on the bench. “Your toes look sore,” he commented.
Once more, the unexpected arousal crashed into Luna. Her foot looked small and delicate in his paw of a hand. She would be small and delicate in his hands, too. A darker thought rushed through her slim frame. And his bed.
Oh, Lord, what kind of bed did Jason sleep in? Did he stretch out across the whole thing or would there be a Luna-sized place reserved just for her?
No, no, no, she reminded herself, feeling her insides continue to soften and pulse with need. She had a job to do, a secret to uncover, and then her home was back in Maine. There was no room in the plan for losing her V-card to a bear shifter dude. Even if he was the sexiest man, she had ever met.

He began massaging the soles of her feet, loosening muscles she didn’t even know were tense. “Ohhhh,” she whispered, eyes drifting shut with the sensuality of his touch. She was going to orgasm if he kept that up and Luna couldn’t decide if that was a very bad idea or the best idea in the history of ever. 


Saturday, September 1, 2018

Claiming her Leopard by Summer Donnelly

*~*~*Snippet Saturday*~*~*

~ all the usual disclaimers. These are my characters. Hot off my word doc and haven't been editied yet. 

Enjoy!
xoxo
SD


Dot
“Women who were almost seventy years old should not be traipsing around the mountains looking for a crazy leopard shifter with more rosettes than sense,” Dot Lowell mumbled to herself.
She wiped at her face, pushing long curls of her hair away from her sweat-drenched brow. Dot had a moment of feminine unease as she wondered if Nick would even recognize her anymore. She was hardly a girl of twenty.
Ironically, she tugged on one of her own spirals. It bounced back to her crown in willful delight. “Not only don’t I have brown hair anymore but I probably still ironed it flat.”
Dot chuckled when she thought of the contortions she put her body (and hair!) through to get it bone-straight. “Such silly girls we were.” But was it really different from her daughter Caroline’s fascination with permanent waves or Luna’s desire to color her hair?
The sweat from her exertion combined with the humidity of the day making her feel gross and dirty. Was she on some crazy wild goose chase? Or would she find her husband once and for all?
“Even if he is my estranged husband.”
The flight from Maine had been quick and uneventful. Her granddaughter Luna and her mate Jason had met her. Jason had even been warm despite Dot’s distrust of the tall, handsome bear shifter.
Luna had a popular blog called Shifter Sightings. Using the contacts she’d developed over the last several years, Luna had tracked her grandfather to the small town of Silver Fells.
Buried in the North Carolina mountains, Silver Fells was home to a diner, a yoga studio, one real estate company, and a bar with the crazy name of The Lusty Leopard.
Oh, and several dozen former military shifter types.
Cree James, a mountain lion shifter, was the manager of the Lusty Leopard. Which just happened to be owned by one Nicholas Lowell. Her husband.
She glanced at the map Cree James drew for her. That was definitely a goat-shaped rock, so she must be going in the right direction.
Never mind the fact that she wouldn’t be seventy for another two years, walking around in snake, cougar, and bear-infested woods was not Dot’s idea of a good time. Portland may not be a major city by Manhattan or Los Angeles’ standards, but it had its charm.
The best of which was the decided lack of bears, snakes, and mountain lions within the city’s limits.
Despite any rumors the rest of the country thought, not everyone who lived in Maine was a hearty, eccentric type or a character out of a Stephen King novel. Some of them even preferred the occasional trip to Boston to catch a concert or a game.
But now, here she was in tennis shoes, for crying out loud! Sweating and walking though the woods. “I’ll probably be covered in ticks by the time this is finished,” Dot muttered.
“He’ll scent you,” Jason told her.
Dot wasn’t quite sure how to feel about her only granddaughter getting engaged to a bear shifter with the unlikely name of Jason Fox. What kind of name was that for a bear shifter anyway? Dot wondered.
Dot congratulated herself on the fact that she didn’t give Luna any lectures, though. Okay, yes, there was a stern look over her reading glasses. Had the girl learned nothing from seeing her grandmother’s pain?
She sighed. They would have a talk when Dot came down from the mountains. Dot couldn’t allow her only granddaughter to wind up with such an inappropriate husband.
She kicked up a small cascade of leaves, their scent setting off another memory. Her love for Nick.
Oh, she’d been ridiculously in love with him. Nothing would have stopped her from getting marrying Nick. Not even the fact she was only sixteen.
After a whirlwind courtship, she had begged her parents to sign the paperwork saying she could get married. She’d promised them she’d get her GED. Vowed she wouldn’t get pregnant. Swore that their love would be eternal.
Dot shook her head at her childish naivete. She had eventually gotten her GED, had returned home pregnant, and, although the love had been eternal, the marriage had not been.
So, there she’d been a child bride when she said “I do” and he was all of twenty, gangly with youth but looking so handsome in his uniform.
Her granddaughter was twenty-five, far older than she’d been when she got married. And Dot wasn’t so old she couldn’t recognize stupid in love when it smacked her on the nose. But still. That didn’t mean she had to like it.
Cree and Jason told her to not try and cover her scent. If anything, the walk in the woods would make her ripe for Nick to find her. Dot didn’t think much of the idea of being “ripened” but figured they knew more about that kind of thing than she did.
As Dot went around a bend in the trail, she found herself facing a rustic line shack. She snorted with laughter. It put those chic two hundred square foot little houses on TV to shame. Forget modern conveniences, this looked like something out of a Hollywood set designer’s idea of a moonshiner’s cabin. Not only was it barely standing but it didn’t look much bigger than an outhouse.
Dot would be surprised if there was room enough inside for a twin bed.
Opening the door and feeling quite a bit like Goldie Locks on a woodland adventure, Dot entered. “Hello?” she called, hoping against all logic there were no bears inside. Or bear shifters. Or whatever existed in this out back of beyond she was currently visiting.
Dot hoped her granddaughter knew where to find her because she was pretty sure she was going to die from either shock or a very fine mauling.
Other than a thick layer of grime and a plethora of dust motes dancing in the cabin, it was empty, at least from any animals. In one corner was an Army-surplus cot with a thin mattress. A blanket and pillow were neatly folded on one end. In the other corner was some sort of sink. There didn’t appear to be running water, so the sink was more for show than anything else. A quick glance under the cabinet showed a bucket for any water that ran off.
Dot began to think “rustic” was an overreaching compliment. Barren and primitive were far more appropriate.
Continuing her exploration, she looked in the pantry and found a case of water, some MREs that were still within date (guaranteed to last thirty years!), and plenty of freeze dried ice cream. Apparently, one thing that hadn’t changed was Nick’s sweet tooth. Cree told her to take what she needed while she was there. He would restock next month.
Placing her backpack on the round kitchen table that took up most of the square footage in the minuscule shack, Dot gathered a few candles and collected wood for the small wood burning stove. She was prepared to give her wayward husband forty-eight hours to find her and then she was out of this tiny town forever. And, hopefully, dragging Luna with her.
A cracked and rusty mirror hung on the wall. Dot stopped, caught by her own reflection. Would Nick be attracted to the woman she’d become?
“Stop it, Dot. Don’t go there.”
But once the line of thought opened, it wasn’t as easy to slam shut. Unbidden, she wondered what he looked like after all these years.
“Probably fat and ugly.” It was a mean thought. Beneath her, but after being abandoned for decades, she was entitled to a little bit of meanness. Or at least that’s what she told herself.
Dot thought back to the cabin she was staying at when she first arrived in Silver Fells. Affectionately named Little Yellow, or as Luna dubbed it The Love Shack, it had a warm, cozy bed and a beautiful quilt to sleep under.
A cabin full of magic, Luna said.

“This one is full of more dust than magic.”

<<<<>>>>
ready for more shifter adventures?