To Take a Wolf [Werewolves of Forever, Texas 14] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Read online

  Werewolves of Forever, Texas 14

  To Take a Wolf

  After saving her sister, Pamela, from a wolf, Mona Frost is afraid she’s changing. But into what? She has enough to worry about, but when she and Pamela end up in Forever, Texas, she can’t shake an electrifying compulsion to claim three sexy cowboys for her own. Worse, her sister has the same compulsion. But is it for the same men?

  Werewolf brothers Troy and Barrett Wilder, and their cousin, Justin Breckinridge, sense the connection, the invisible bond that draws werewolves to their intended mate, with one of the sisters. But which one?

  Mona can’t fight the changing happening inside her, especially when her libido is howling for the men. But keeping track of her impulsive sister is getting in the way. Can she fight off the animal inside her clawing to get free? Can she save her sister yet again? Or will her need for the men she craves be her final undoing?

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

  Length: 40,867 words

  TO TAKE A WOLF

  Werewolves of Forever, Texas 14

  Jane Jamison

  

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  TO TAKE A WOLF

  Copyright © 2017 by Jane Jamison

  ISBN: 978-1-64010-527-0

  First Publication: August 2017

  Cover design by Les Byerley

  All art and logo copyright © 2017 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,

  The Werewolves of Forever, Texas series is very close to my heart. After taking some time to explore other places and other shifters, I have come home to Forever. I’m happy you decided to make the journey with me.

  Truly grateful,

  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

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Landmarks

  Cover

  TO TAKE A WOLF

  Werewolves of Forever, Texas 14

  JANE JAMISON

  Copyright © 2017

  Chapter One

  “That’s great, Pammy. Keep up the good work. You’re so beautiful, so vibrant. Every man wants you. Hell, you’re so fucking fabulous, even I want to eat you up.”

  Mona Frost resisted the urge to roll her eyes. After spending the past two years working for her younger sister, swimsuit model Pamela Frost, she should’ve been used to the ass-kissing of photographers. Her sister was quickly growing in fame and, therefore, treated like a goddess on every magazine cover photo shoot.

  She glanced around. Instead of doing the shoot at a tropical beach, the photographer had decided a beach was too cliché and had, instead, opted on the dark green forests of Washington State. Would anyone who looked at the photos see the incredible nature surrounding the scantily clad girl? Would anyone imagine the songs of the birds that had chirped until the shoot’s crew had barged into their sanctuary acting like invading barbarians? Who would be looking at the background anyway? With her sister in the photo, everything else would simply cease to exist for the viewer.

  “Out of my way.”

  She sidestepped out of the way as one of the make-up artists dashed to take the shine off her sister’s perfect upturned nose. Pamela caught her eye and smiled. Mona smiled back even though half of the time she wasn’t sure if her sister was smiling in a friendly way or in a “don’t you wish you were me” kind of way.

  The problem was that Mona did wish she were her sister. At least, in some ways. Although she was six years older than her twenty-one-year-old sister, and had even helped raise her when their mother had been stricken with breast cancer then died a year later, Mona had always felt as though she lived in her sister’s shadow.

  “Pamela’s so gorgeous. Sexy. Amazing.”

  She nodded, not caring which of the many onlookers had made the statement. Pamela had been blessed with an angelic face and the body of a wanton sinner. The mesmerizing combination drew both men and women to her. Even children preferred Pamela over Mona. God knew why, considering Pamela never wanted anything to do with them. For the most part, Pamela didn’t want anything to do with almost anyone—unless, of course, they were rich or famous or, preferably, both.

  Mona silently admonished herself. Pamela was vain and self-involved, but she could also be a very sweet person. She had a big heart and would sometimes surprise Mona with her selflessness, giving to charity and putting the contribution under Mona’s name.

  “Don’t you wish you could be just like her?” The young woman, an apprentice to the photographer, put her hand against her chest and sighed, her eyes clouding over with both envy and admiration.

  One of Pamela’s adoring fans, no doubt.

  “Sure. Of course I do.” It was only partly true. “But at least I’m the next best thing.”

  “You are?” The girl’s wide gaze scanned Mona, searching for anything that could possibly be as amazing as her idol.

  “Yeah. I’m her sister.”

  “Really? But you’re not—”

  Not sexy? Not beautiful? Not captivating?

  The girl sucked in a hard breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it the way it came out.”

  The apology lacked sincerity, but at
least she’d tried. “Don’t worry about it. I get that all the time. Believe me. I understand.”

  The girl shot her a wan smile and moved away as fast as she could without actually running.

  Mona understood, all right. From the day Pamela drew her first breath and then let out her first of many, many wails, she’d lived a life filled with compliment after compliment. No wonder she had one hell of an ego. Everyone else in the Frost family had ceased to exist.

  After trying to stand out on her own throughout high school and on into college, Mona had finally given up and decided that if she couldn’t outshine her sister at something, anything, she’d simply stop trying and join her, standing once again in the shadow of her exciting sister. Still, working as Pamela’s personal assistant left her time to do her “real” job of blogging and promoting not only her sister but others on social media. She was finally making headway into the field and was garnering attention for her work. True, it wasn’t for her looks, but getting kudos for her creativity, professionalism, and expertise was even better, right?

  A movement off to the left caught her eye. She squinted, trying to make out the shape in the rich lushness of the forest, but couldn’t. Was it a deer? Probably not. After the noise the crew had made, she hadn’t thought any animal would hang around. Hell, she didn’t want to hang around and actually envied the animals their freedom to leave.

  If only…

  Animals had it made. They did what they wanted, whenever they wanted.

  Yet again, she caught a flash of something slinking through the foliage. Instead of running away, whatever it was kept moving closer, creeping silently toward her sister.

  Her nerves stood on end as they did anytime her sister might be in danger. From warding off star-struck strangers to keeping the paparazzi from getting too close, Mona made sure her sister was safe. She was a mamma bear to Pamela and, although her kid sister was old enough to take care of herself, Mona doubted she’d ever be able to completely turn her loose. She took her promise to their departed mother to watch over Pamela seriously. Come hell or high water, she’d keep her promise.

  She watched, the sounds of the crew and the constant praising of the photographer fading into a blur of background noise.

  What is that? Whatever it is, it’s big. Too big.

  Is it an animal? Or is it an ever-persistent photo bug that had somehow managed to track down their location? How many times would she have to toss one of those guys out on his ear? She took a step forward, skirting around the shoot area even as the photographer kept moving around, the click, click, click of his instrument setting up a rhythm to match her quickening heartbeats. She kept moving, slowly, staying even with the movement of whatever was headed toward Pamela.

  It’s probably only a deer. Please let it be a deer.

  If it was a deer and if the animal came into the open, the photographer would go crazy and snap away even faster. What better addition to the photo of a bikini’d babe in the forest than to have a real, not photoshopped, Bambi just off to the side of the picture?

  Beauty and the Beast Forest Style.

  She paused as the word hit her.

  Beast. What if it’s not a sweet deer? What if it’s something more? Something predatory? Something with claws and fangs?

  Should she call out? But if it turned out to be nothing, she would’ve interrupted the shoot, garnering the anger of not only her sister but the entire crew. Photographers were notorious for tossing anyone who made a disruption from a shoot. She had to be certain before she dared to say anything.

  She moved again, going faster than before. Reacting just as the something in the forest burst out of the bushes, Mona threw her body between the huge canine and her sister. An amber-filled eye, encircled by white and filled with an intelligence almost humanlike, locked onto hers. As though in a daze, she heard a voice screaming and vaguely recognized it as her own. More noises followed, including her sister calling her name, fear putting a horrible edge to her voice.

  But those were only sounds. Sounds that were obscured by the pain ripping into her body. As she lay on the ground, she tried twisting around to see. If she were going to die, she wanted to know what had killed her. Wild amber eyes met hers as the enormous black wolf dug its claws into her back. The creature snarled at her, its mouth dripping with blood from vicious bites in her flesh. With one swift move, it dug its claws into her then flipped her onto her back. She would’ve sworn it smiled wickedly a moment before it sank its fangs into her shoulder.

  Chapter Two

  “Mona, can you please call Edward back and tell him to stop pestering me? I’m not going to change my mind.”

  Mona dropped the heavy suitcase on top of the bed, paused a moment to keep herself from telling Pamela to do it herself, then answered the way she always did. “Sure thing. But you know he’s not going to stop until you tell him yourself.”

  Edward Ricamana, Pamela’s agent, was a nice guy in a cutthroat business. Somehow, he managed to be a terrific agent and keep his soul. Yet ever since Pamela had decided she was going to take a much-needed break “to calm my nerves,” Edward had grown increasingly insistent, even becoming slightly belligerent. Still, Mona couldn’t blame him. Her sister was his biggest client, the one he spent ninety percent of his time on. When she wasn’t working, he wasn’t making much money.

  “When should I say you’re going back to work?” Not that she expected a real answer. She’d already asked numerous times.

  “When I decide it’s time.”

  Which, of course, was exactly the answer Mona had expected. She sighed and unzipped the suitcase. Although it was Pamela’s things, she was the one who would unpack them. “How did you find this place, anyway?”

  Forever, Texas, didn’t even rank a dot on a map. She’d tried to find more information, but had come up empty.

  “I told you.” Irritation laced Pamela’s tone. “I heard about it from Morris.”

  Morris Tucker. Shit.

  Mona still marveled at how the fifty-year-old man, a very successful businessman, had wormed his way so easily into Pamela’s inner circle. Yet he had a way about him, able to charm people. Pamela had met the shady-looking man at a party, then, seemingly overnight, he was giving her advice. Even Edward, who liked almost everyone, didn’t care for the man. Not that it had anything to do with his mismatched eyebrows. But seriously? Who has one black eyebrow and one white eyebrow?

  “Was Morris in his right mind when he suggested this place?” Or did he have an ulterior motive? She wasn’t sure why, since Morris had never done anything wrong. She simply didn’t trust the man. At least going to Forever had taken her sister away from his influence for a while.

  “What’d you say?”

  Mona had whispered for a reason. “Nothing.” She continued to place the clothes in the large handmade dresser. The room was modest, as was the rest of the house. She’d been more than surprised when Pamela hadn’t turned up her nose, done an about-face, and headed straight back to the Mercedes out front. Instead, her luxury-loving sister had pronounced the place “cozy” and exactly what she needed to get back to her roots.

  At least Pamela was right about that. The house was closer in furnishings to the house they’d grown up in. Three bedrooms with one small bathroom at the end of the hall. Mona imagined the feel of the bathroom door against the edge of her hand as she pounded on the door, trying to get her primping sister to open up and let her go pee.

  Mona smiled. They hadn’t realized it then, and she doubted Pamela would ever agree, but those had been the good times. The times before their mother had died. Maybe if their father had stuck around long enough, the good times might have continued. Instead, he’d left his oldest daughter to take care of his cancer-riddled wife and a spoiled brat.

  Intending to hang a couple of Pamela’s dresses in the tiny closet, Mona twisted her torso. She froze in mid-motion, her breath halting at the sudden stab of pain. She stared at her image reflected in the mirror. Once the pain h
ad finally subsided, she put the dresses down then undid the buttons on her shirt.

  Don’t look. You always look, and it never changes anything.

  Yet, she had to look. She slipped the blouse off her shoulders.

  As it always did, emotions flooded her. Always first, always raw, came the emotion of sorrow. The four long scratches running from the base of her neck to between her shoulder blades were long healed. She still remembered the excruciating pain as the wolf had grabbed hold of her, dragged his claws down her back, and then drove them deeper inside her to flip her over like a child playing with a doll. Once the sorrow faded, however, a special kind of relief swamped her. If she hadn’t jumped in between the beast and the beauty, Pamela might not be alive.

  Her gaze lifted to the semicircular scar on her shoulder. The next emotion came and, in many ways, it was worse than the other feelings. Heartache tightened her chest as she reached around to skim her fingers along the scar. She didn’t care that her skin was blemished except for one thing. In a world that put a premium on a woman’s appearance, above even her intelligence or her kindness, who would ever consider her beautiful with those scars? She’d had a difficult enough time standing next to her sister. But after the attack two months earlier, she’d felt even less attractive, now having to wear clothes that would hide the scars while her sister wore revealing gowns to show her glowing, fresh skin.

  What man would want to run his hands over her skin, only find rough scars? What lover would caress her and call her beautiful now?