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  Lions of Lonesome, Texas 4

  Lion Love

  If Winnie Bunch’s best friend, Bree Chambers, says she saw a lion change into a woman, then she believes her. No matter how crazy Bree sounds. Because that’s what friends do. Winnie’s even willing to return to Lonesome, Texas and the Shifter Days Festival to help Bree find another werelion and prove their existence.

  Jason, Danny, and Shane Landerson fall for the beautiful Winnie, but differ on when to tell her that they’re werelions. Should they give her The Allure, the mystical breath that will draw her to them? Or can they resist her own allure, giving her time to grow to love them? She’s their mate. All they have to do is to get her to believe it.

  Danger, however, waits for no one. When Winnie goes missing, they’re on the hunt. Will they find her? And if they do, will she have already succumbed to another shifter’s allure?

  Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Paranormal, Shape-shifter

  Length: 27,006 words

  LION LOVE

  Lions of Lonesome, Texas 4

  Jane Jamison

  

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  LION LOVE

  Copyright © 2018 by Jane Jamison

  ISBN: 978-1-64243-063-9

  First Publication: March 2018

  Cover design by Harris Channing

  All art and logo copyright © 2018 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

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  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  DEDICATION

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for coming back to visit Lonesome, Texas. Pull up a chair, pour a tall glass of your favorite drink, and visit awhile, okay? I think you’re going to be glad you did.

  “Love the person, not the package.”

  Jane Jamison

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  From an early age, Jane Jamison was fascinated with stories about werewolves, vampires, aliens, and whatever else might be hiding in her bedroom closet. To this day, she still swears she can hear growls and moans whenever the lights are out.

  Born under the sign of Scorpio meant Jane was destined to be very sensual. Some would say she’s downright sexual. Then one day she put her two favorite things together and found her life’s true ambition: to be a romance author.

  Jane spends each day locked in her office surrounded by her two furry bundles of joy and the heroes and heroines she loves. Her plans include taking care of her loving husband, traveling, and writing until her fingers fall off.

  Jane also writes as Beverly Rae.

  For all titles by Jane Jamison, please visit

  www.bookstrand.com/jane-jamison

  For titles by Jane Jamison writing as

  Beverly Rae, please visit

  www.bookstrand.com/beverly-rae

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Lion Love

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Lion Love

  Lions of Lonesome, Texas 4

  JANE JAMISON

  Copyright © 2018

  Chapter One

  “This is amazing.” Winnie Bunch sat in the Whiskers and Whiskey Saloon in Lonesome, Texas, and wondered how the hell she’d let her best friend, Bree Chambers, talk her into coming to the annual Shifter Days Festival. The whole shifters-really-exist idea wasn’t her thing. Still, it was hard not to get caught up in the excitement. Festivalgoers wore costumes ranging from the amazing to the just plain ridiculous as the flurry of activity gave the saloon an almost feverish buzz.

  “It sure is,” answered Bree.

  Winnie glanced at her friend. Bree wasn’t crazy. She wasn’t fanciful, either. But ever since her friend had happened on the small town and its festival last year, Bree hadn’t stopped insisting that shifters—actual men-changing-into-animals whenever they wanted—were, in fact, real.

  At first, Winnie was certain her friend had been joking. But the more Bree had gone on about what she’d seen, the more Winnie understood that her friend was deadly serious. By that time, Winnie had worried that she’d have to call in a mental health professional.

  Nonetheless, after arguing back and forth, round after round, Bree had finally convinced her. Or, at least, her friend had convinced her enough so that Winnie no longer believed that Bree had gone off the deep end. She’d done her best, primarily out of friendship and loyalty, to believe that what Bree said was true.

  Shifters really did exist, and they lived in Lonesome, Texas.

  She looked at herself in the mirror every day and told her image to believe in her friend. That her strong, intelligent, usually logical friend wouldn’t, couldn’t, be wrong. Yet the lingering doubt had continued even as she’d pushed it away day after day. After all, reality was reality. And shifters? Well, they weren’t based in any reality she’d even known.

  Yet being the true friend she was, Winnie had finally forced herself to accept that believing her friend provided a much brighter outlook than having Bree committed for psychiatric observation. Besides, Bree was Bree. If she said she’d seen a lioness change into a woman, then she had. Done deal. Right?

  Still, as determined as she was to believe Bree, Winnie had to admit that there were times—like right now—when she didn’t believe. Until she could squash the doubt once and for all, she’d fake belief until she felt belief. So she’d done what a good friend should do and had come along with Bree to the Shifter Festival.

  Stop doubting and start supporting, damn it.

  “Was it this crowded when you were here last year?”

  “Yeah.”

  Winnie glanced at Bree, but quickly brought her attention back to the two incredible-looking men at the bar. They were nearly seven feet tall with black hair and eyes. Each one could’ve been a male model. Or, better yet, an exotic dancer like one of those delectable hunks with The Thunder from Down Under male exotic revue. She took a sip of her beer, hoping it would help her cool off, but every time she glanced their way, she felt a tingle race down her spine.

  Damn. It’s been a long since I had anyone who looks like them.

  She chuckled.

  Who am I kidding? I’ve never had anyone who looks like them. Look away. Remember Bree.

  She jerked her attention back to her friend and, without thinking, said, “Why didn’t you come right back? Why did you wait an entire year?” She’d thought about that question and so many others often enough, but hadn’t asked. To ask hadn’t seemed loyal. Yet she hadn’t been able to hold back any longer. Maybe she’d better stop drinking.

  “Well, for one thing, the festival only happens one time a year.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  Bree frowned. “I don’t know.” She paused to think. “I guess I didn’t want to come alone. And it took awhile before you…” She paused again, closin
g off the next words.

  Winnie felt her cheeks flame. The last thing she wanted to do was to have Bree realize how much she doubted her claim of shifters being real. “Before I believed you.” Guilt hit her again. Why did she still doubt her best friend? Bree would never lie to her, much less make up a wild story.

  “Don’t worry. I get it.”

  Still, Winnie found it difficult to look at Bree. Instead, her attention shifted back to the gorgeous guys at the bar. They could make her forget anything and everything else.

  When men look like that, who cares if they grow fur?

  “I’m sorry we couldn’t get reservations at the B&B. I tried, but they were already full. In fact, the lady who runs the place—I think her name is Miss Kitty if you can believe that—said another woman had booked the last room a while back. She said that woman might cancel because she’d cancelled before, but I guess this was the year she finally kept the reservation. Figures.”

  “Like I’ve said before, don’t worry about it. It’ll be fun camping out.” Fun? Surely Bree heard the lie in her forced cheerfulness. Winnie hated camping with a passion. Camping to her meant staying at a hotel without room service. Instead of sleeping on the ground, she’d rather have spent the night in their car. But she bit her tongue and kept quiet. She’d already thrown too much shade at her friend.

  She and Bree had been friends forever. Or, at least, it seemed that way. They’d met in third grade when Bree and her family had moved to the small Texas town of Palooka. Palooka for God’s sake. Who the hell gave a town a name like Palooka, anyway? Especially when every other town in Texas had great-sounding Western names like Waco, Dallas, Brimstone, or Lonesome?

  But Palooka had been home and had given her Bree. Being two of only six girls in their grade had made it easier for them to find a friend in the other. Their friendship had grown stronger with each passing year. Now she couldn’t imagine her life without Bree.

  Which, of course, was why she was willing to sleep in a sleeping bag on the ground in the middle of nowhere. Like a damn animal. She frowned. Did Bree think sleeping outside like an animal would make it easier to find a real live shifter? Was she going to sit up at night and hope one would run past them?

  Bree’s laugh captured Winnie’s attention.

  “We’re lucky that I found that spot of land just outside of town. And to have the owner, Mr. Harper, out fixing fences just as we drove by. I didn’t like the idea of putting up a tent on anyone’s land without asking first. I heard stories from last year about people getting kicked off someone’s property in some very not-so-friendly ways.”

  “Uh-huh. Friendly. As in paying him a bunch of money to be friendly.” Money was tight even though they shared a small house in Palooka. “I’m still in shock. We’re paying fifty bucks each night for the privilege to sleep in the middle of a dirt field.”

  Stop bitching. You’re doing this for your best friend.

  “It’s better than sleeping in the car.”

  Is it? How?

  Winnie bit back the questions and opted for a more diplomatic answer. “I guess. Although the bugs wouldn’t be able to get at us in the car.”

  Or the shifters, either. If those things are real, shouldn’t we be afraid of getting eaten?

  She hesitated, trying not to say what she was thinking. But as hard as she tried, sometimes her mouth jumped ahead of her brain. “And if what you say is true—” Winnie bit her lower lip, again trying her best to stop herself. But it was too late. Instead, she tried to lessen the judgment in her tone. “I mean, since what you say is true, maybe we’d be safer sleeping in the car.”

  “We’re not going to get eaten by a shifter. Besides, if we’re lucky, we might be invited home by some friendly locals.”

  “Locals. Right.” Winnie leaned toward Bree, checked around her, and hoped no one could hear her over the noise. “Locals as in shifter men. Hot shifter men.”

  “Take a look around you, Win. What do you see?”

  Winnie frowned. She didn’t want to answer, but again, she couldn’t keep her mouth shut. “I see a bunch of people in costumes. And a lot of people who are going to have massive hangovers in the morning.”

  Before finding the Whiskers and Whiskey Saloon, they’d spent some time enjoying the sights and sounds outside. The street had been transformed into one big party. Lights were strung as well as banners declaring the Shifter Days Festival. People were in costumes—some more convincing than others—and a party atmosphere hung in the air. Most of the festivalgoers were adults, but children darted in and out of the crowd, apparently unconcerned that shifters might be near. Obviously, their parents didn’t think shifters were real if they’d allow their kids to run around without them.

  “True, but that’s not what I’m talking about. Look at the man-to-woman ratio.”

  “The what?” As if she didn’t understand. Yet she knew where her friend was headed.

  “You know what I mean. See? Each woman has at least two men surrounding her. Sometimes three or four men. So what do you think of that?”

  “I think you’re seeing things where there’s nothing to see. And that Lonesome definitely has a lock on sexy men.” Winnie dutifully looked around her, trying to see what Bree was seeing. The men outnumbered the women, which, of course, was always a good thing as far as Winnie was concerned. “Okay. So what if you’re right? What does it mean? That Lonesome is like Alaska? That there are more men here than women?”

  “In a way, yeah. Which means that, if we find one hot-looking man, then we might find more than one.”

  Hmm. More than one man at a time? Now that could be interesting. Unless they really are shifters.

  “Well, that is a plus. But that doesn’t mean it’ll happen to us.”

  “We can sure hope it does.”

  Yeah, I guess so. Hope springs eternal or however the saying goes.

  After a few minutes of sitting silently and sipping their beers, she had to ask. “So you’re hoping we’re going to find not one, but at least four shifters. Two for you and two for me?”

  “Yeah. I am.”

  Winnie wasn’t sure if she wanted to hope for the same thing. Not for the first time, she wished she could tell her friend to get back in the car and drive them home. Having two men could be a tricky thing even if they were human. How much harder would it be to have two men who were animals at heart?

  Maybe now is the time to try and talk some sense into her.

  Winnie took a long drink, then gathered a deep breath, and said it. “Look, Bree, I believe you. Really I do.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  Winnie wouldn’t let Bree’s accusatory tone get to her. Still, she needed to support her friend no matter what. She looked around again, trying to see the crowd through Bree’s eyes.

  I guess if any people could be shifters, this bunch could.

  “If you say you saw a shifter, then you saw a shifter.” How was that for support? Had she sounded convincing?

  “Then what? Where’s the but?”

  She could hear the hurt in Bree’s tone and felt awful for putting it there. “No but. It’s just that, if there are a bunch of shifters in here, why do you want to hook up with one? Not to mention more than one? Wouldn’t that be dangerous?”

  How many times had they had the same discussion? How many times had they talked about the pros and cons of finding a real shifter? And how many times had Bree come out ahead on that conversation?

  “Because I don’t think they’d hurt us. If they did, it would get out. People around the world would find out about Lonesome.”

  Not if they’re good at covering their tracks. Literally and figuratively speaking.

  She stayed silent, knowing Bree wouldn’t agree. In fact, she could imagine her friend’s answer. “No one’s going to hurt us. That lion I saw last year didn’t lay a paw on me.”

  She paused, half-expecting Bree to say what she’d thought. When Bree didn’t, she decided to try a different tact, still h
oping to get through to her friend. Not that she really thought it would work. Once Bree got set on something, she held on to it like a dog with a bone. “You know, they might not be like the shifters in the movies. Sure, they’re probably handsome like most of the men in here, but that doesn’t mean they’ll treat you right.”

  “And it doesn’t mean they won’t. The same could be said of any human man, too. We both know how it is to have lousy boyfriends.”

  A wave of pain zipped through Winnie, and then she released the pain on a puff of air. The definition of “lousy boyfriend” didn’t even come close to what Vic had been like. He’d pushed the limit all the way up to stopping just short of physically hurting her before she’d finally decided to break it off and move in with Bree. Bree had, in fact, been the one to finally talk sense into her, standing between Winnie and Vic, ready to fight to protect her.

  She owed Bree not only for keeping her safe but for always being by her side. Winnie gave up. For now, anyway. Later, she might need to rescue her friend, and if push came to shove, she’d be ready to do it. “Okay. So what do we do? Stand on the table and tell them we’re looking for shifters?” She cringed, realizing her mistake as soon as the words were out.

  Bree chuckled. “Maybe. I mean, why be subtle?”

  Winnie tried to laugh it off. Surely, Bree hadn’t taken her seriously. Then again, it was Bree. “Oh, hell, I shouldn’t have suggested it.”

  “No, you probably shouldn’t have.”

  She attempted to make light of it all. “Well, Miz Chambers, exactly what kind of shifter do you want? How about a couple of hot werewolves?” Which would she choose? Wolves? Tigers? Or lions? She’d asked the question, although she already knew her friend’s answer.