A woman desperate to save herself and her prize horses.
Two shapeshifter cowboys who want her as their woman.
When Zance, a timber wolf shifter,
and Dontoya, a black cougar shifter,
find Sherilyn dying due to a reckless driver,
there is only one way to bring her back to life.
But, that's only the beginning...
Beware, Danger Ahead! Shapeshifter violence, guns, and dark magick are involved.
The cast of secondary characters includes an alpha werewolf, shapeshifters of many types and stripes -- a sprinkling of other supernatural beings/creatures -- and a palomino stallion. Oh, and at least, one human.
Please note: This is an M/F/M menage love story, where pleasuring the heroine is the sole focus of the two heroes. There is 'no' sexual relationship or touching between the two men. This book also contains explicit sexual situations, graphic language, and material that some readers may find objectionable. That is, menage fun and fantasy scenarios, and backdoor play/intercourse.
Sherilyn hides out on her small ranch near the odd town of Talbot's Peak, Montana, determined to save her prize horses from being stolen. She has no time for men. Besides she's been down that heartbreak road one too many times. The hitch: she didn't bargain on two shapeshifter cowboys who decide she belongs to them.
Zance, a timber wolf shifter, and Dontoya, a rare black cougar shifter, are longtime pardners. Having built up their immense ranch in the supernaturals community, they've settled into a cattleman's lifestyle. Now they've finally found the one woman they both want as their mate.
Talbot's Peak, Montana
December 2011, After Christmas
Enchanted, in a semi-trance, Sherilyn stared...
Enchanted, in a semi-trance, Sherilyn stared at the graphically gorgeous poster advertising a New Year's Eve celebration at the Pleasure Club. The large poster looked out of place hanging next to the community board, just inside the small-town, somewhat odd grocery store in Talbot's Peak, Montana.
"It's the grand opening of the Midnight Stardust, Dante's new supperclub. Are you thinking of going?" Brenda chattily asked, as she rang up Sherilyn's purchases.
"Ladies are free like it says. Dante himself hung the poster. He's such a gentleman," Brenda trilled like a teenager with a crush.
"He made a point of telling me there will be plenty of dance partners," she added.
"Is that right?" Sherilyn murmured, unable to force her gaze away from the oh-so elegant couple dancing beneath a galaxy of sparkling stars.
The forties era, swanky scene struck her as magical, and was everything she'd been craving of late. But that was not to be. Not for her.
Sadness welled up inside Sherilyn. She mercilessly tamped it down. That time in her life was gone, and all that mattered now was the harsh reality of her circumstances.
With the snow piling up, she needed to get on the road, get home. Mentally sighing, Sherilyn fished her credit card out her bag. "I thought Dante ran the biker bar outside of town. That's what I heard, anyway."
"Yeah, he does. But, he doesn't make it obvious. We all know he's the power behind the pack...er...I meant throne. Long day," Brenda excused herself. She nearly snatched the card from Sherilyn's fingertips.
"Are you going, Brenda?"
"No." She gave a shake of her head, reminding Sherilyn of a big cat. "Me and the mister already made plans for this year. Skiing, our own cabin, nights by the fire. We're getting away for a long weekend."
"Sounds lovely." Sherilyn smiled wishing Brenda well, while wishing for what she could never have, a loving man in her life.
She scooped up her four grocery bags. The sacker, a teenager who eyed her like a ferret, asked if she needed help, and Sherilyn automatically shook her head 'no'.
"You should think about going," Brenda persisted.
"Nothing to wear." Sherilyn sidled toward the exit.
"Couple of new boutiques in town. With all the folks pouring into town and the surrounding area, there are some high class shops opening up."
"I'll have to check them out." Sherilyn pasted a smile on her face as she made a hasty escape.
Yeah, that'll be the day, Sherilyn thought as she stowed her groceries inside the small aging pick-up. Talbot's Peak was in a mini-boom, but none of that prosperity helped her situation.
Icy snowflakes melted on her cheeks as Sherilyn slip-slided her way toward the driver's door, and quickly climbed inside. Relieved when the truck purred to life as she turned the key, Sherilyn said a silent prayer of thanks.
In general, the bottom had dropped out of the economy, and with the rotten way her life had been going, she constantly worried about when the next crisis would strike.
Hell, even if she could talk herself into attending the grand opening at the Midnight Stardust Supperclub--not likely since men were a thing of the past--there was no way she could afford a gown, designer or not, or even a party dress.
Sherilyn heaved a sigh and fought off her sorrow. With the weather worsening, she gripped the steering wheel, carefully negotiating the slippery streets as she made her way out of town, then onto the highway.
Right now, all she cared about was getting home safely, and checking on her horses. Once everything was squared away, she planned on indulging in a huge steamy mug of hot chocolate while cozily curled up next to her wood stove.
Earlier in the day, she'd rushed through all her chores so she could head to town, and stock up for the winter storm coming in. Per usual, that had been no easy feat.
When Sherilyn had originally bought her off-the-beaten-trail, fifty-plus acres ranch, she hadn't realized how much work went into maintaining the structures and fencing. Most days found her exhausted, ready to collapse into bed.
She certainly couldn't afford to hire anyone. Even so, finding a trustworthy hand was likely impossible, given who her enemies were.
At the time, she'd been desperate to find a place far away from the Templeton bastards. The father and son had already tried every dirty trick in the book to steal her horses, coveting their superb bloodlines.
Sherilyn had also succeeded in breeding some of the top endurance racers. In competition after competition, her horses had bested theirs in performance.
But so sad, those days were over too. Sherilyn didn't dare compete anymore. The word would get back to the Templetons, and they'd track her down, rifles at the ready--the same way they did a wolf who killed one of their Angus calves.
After two attempts by their hired thugs to steal her top mare and stallion--only stopped by the grace of God, and her own willingness to shoot back--Sherilyn managed to escape.
Since it was throw-it-in-your-face known that the Templetons were attached at the hip with both local and state law enforcement, she'd skedaddled fast, literally leaving in the dark of night.
Driving past her ranch land now, Sherilyn significantly slowed her speed. There'd been a rapid snow buildup on the back road, and she wanted to keep an eye out for any break or cut in her fence.
Horse theft these days was damn lucrative, and the fate a cruel one. Recently, Sherilyn had found her fence wires cut three times, the obvious work of professional thieves.
Thank goodness, her horses were wary of strangers, and coddled enough that at the first sign of danger, they galloped toward the barn, their safe place.
Weariness suddenly grabbed hold of Sherilyn. No surprise, since she hadn't eaten much. Hoping like hell she wouldn't find a problem...well, lately, trouble had it in for her. What could go wrong seemed go wrong, despite her efforts to think positively.
And...there it was. The top strand of wire had either come loose from the post, or been cut. Sherilyn couldn't tell from this distance.
She eased the pickup close, careful not to end up in the ditch, then put it in park. Blowing out a long sigh, she reached for her tool box.
After fighting through the grocery bags, she finally got hold of it. With a sense of the inevitable, Sherilyn launched out her door only to be smacked in the face by strong swirling winds, laced with fat snowflakes.
She pulled up her fur-lined hood, pulled on the heavy duty gloves she kept in her pockets, and tromped through the freshly fallen stuff. At least, she'd had sense enough to wear her waterproof, high-top boots.
Glad the wire appeared to have simply weakened, Sherilyn cut off a length and twisted it together with the fencing wire. Clumsy because of her gloves, she still managed to hammer the loosened bracket into the post fairly quickly.
Sherilyn closed her toolbox, and as she made her way back, thoughts of hot chocolate and being toasty warm gave her some comfort. Near the ditch, she stopped.
Fear sliced through her, and a scream lodged in her throat. Paralyzed by the big ass truck barreling down on her, Sherilyn heard herself scream, a terrible sound that rang in her ears.
She dropped the toolbox, and tried to move fast, even dive out of the way. But it was too late.
Sliding sideways, the out-of-control truck slammed into her much smaller pickup. In sickening slow motion, Sherilyn watched her pickup fly toward her.
The impact knocked the wind out of her, flinging her backward as if she were weightless. She landed with a terrible thud, the sound muted by the deep snow that now half buried her.
Everything went hazy as Sherilyn struggled to breathe. Pain knifed her lungs, and agony seeped inside her body, along with a terrible cold.
Her head spun with disjointed images of her life, and she wondered just how badly she'd been injured.
No! Who was going to take care of her precious horses? There was no one else.
Sherilyn fought the darkness threatening to claim her. She battled as hard as she could, but it remained--expanding and rising--dark as the angel of death.
Death, oh dear God, was she dying?
Was the grim reaper here?
Crazily, Sherilyn thought, I should have decided to celebrate New Year's eve at the Midnight Stardust. I wanted to feel like a girl...feel like a woman again.
I should have...she slipped closer to the void, her thoughts dimming.
With the names of her beloved horses on her lips, Sherilyn lost the fight, falling into an all-consuming pool of blackness.
Sherilyn almost believed she dreamed.
Sherilyn almost believed she dreamed. Dontoya thrust inside her pussy, his cock so powerful, she shivered inside. Never had she felt so much like a woman.
He forced her pussy walls to stretch, to take his thick cock as he tenderly plunged deeper. Sherilyn had never enjoyed sex more.
She keened moans of pure pleasure as Dontoya possessed her with a dominance natural to him--obvious in every move he made, obvious in the languid prowess of his body against hers.
Never had she wanted to give herself more to a man.
Dontoya not only took her with his big bold cock, but handled her with care, both emotionally and physically. Her heart swelled with gratitude, and Sherilyn hoped like hell he would continue caring for her this way.
Dontoya, she sang inside her mind. God help her, but the feel of his fine, fine ass was driving her insane with lust. She undulated, matching his slow primal strikes inside her.
"Easy, darlin'," he hoarsely whispered. "Let me do the work this time."
Surprised, Sherilyn slitted her eyes. His smoke-hot gaze met hers, then devoured her face as if he'd found some sort of long-sought heaven.
With a strong thrust of his cock, he pinned her to the bed. "Give me your wrists."
Sherilyn shuddered inside at his command, one that promised more pleasure. He caressed his palms from her head, and she relinquished his perfectly sculpted ass.
After raising her hands high above her head, Dontoya slid his work-calloused hands along her arms. Damn, but he turned her on--got her juices flowing faster than light speed.
He anchored himself on his elbows, and circled his thumbpads on the sensitive skin of her wrists. Sherilyn heaved ragged breaths. Her pussy convulsively clenched his cock, or tried. With his size, she wondered if he felt the small spasms.
As he lowered his head, his gaze scorched her. She trembled when his mouth brushed over hers. He nibbled slow kisses on her lips, the corners, the bottom fullness of her mouth--along the curve of her upper lip.
God, she loved it.
Even as Sherilyn marveled at his endurance as a lover, Dontoya captured both of her wrists in one hand. He forced her arms higher, his claim primitive. His claim obvious.
At the same time, the searing heat of his lips sparked sensations through her. His *take all the time in the world* kisses sensually tortured more than her mouth.
No, she sizzled down to her belly, all while his buried cock kept her wild with need. He tightened his grip on her wrists, and her clit jerked.
The jolt of near-pain pleasure was unexpected, and Sherilyn quaked inside. Never had she imagined this delicious intensity, not in her wildest fantasies.
"Dontoya," escaped on the rush of her breath, once his lips hovered above hers.
"You belong to me."
His raspy growl owned her. To her core, Sherilyn knew he didn't mean just for the good-time moment.
He claimed her as a man claimed a woman.
She could hardly believe this happened. Dazed, yet on fire, red-hot with want, she whimpered.
"Darlin', I'm about to make you explode all nice and slow and fierce beneath me."
Oh, God, yes.
She didn't voice it, but so many men, so many similar promises. None delivered.
Okay, she hadn't been with that many men...but, oh, please.
"Promise." The word escaped before she had a chance to stop it.
"Widen those beautiful thighs of yours."
His command and his praise of her, flashed like sexy lightning through her. Sherilyn eased her legs apart, his hand guiding her.
"That's it, darlin'."
Tremors of anticipation filled her womb as he sensually caressed her hip and thigh--as his eyes blazed to a fiery bronze, his gaze penetrating her.
"Promise," he roughly purred.
He fused their mouths, his kiss long moments of exquisite plunder. Then his tongue masterfully slipped between her lips, tangling with hers.
The sultry embrace of his tongue coaxed Sherilyn into complete surrender. Her pussy throbbed, molten, his to do with as he pleased.
Nearly mindless, unable to do anything else, she rocked her hips. Still lanced to the bed with his heavy cock, her mound pushed against his groin, the sensation highly erotic.
God, she adored the feeling of being his sex captive--another surprise to her.
He nipped her bottom lip, then used his strength to halt her undulations. "No, darlin'."
With a possessive rumble, he planted his elbow and raised above her a few inches. He withdrew his hard, hard cock only to lunge deep inside her.
With a power she craved and loved, he drove inside her. First to the hilt, then his shaft plunged inside her pussy. Over and over.
Over and over again. God, could she ever get enough?
Sherilyn continued basking in his slow yet forceful thrusts. No wonder women wanted him.
After she cast aside a pang of jealousy, she succumbed to her orgasmic excitement. Surging like a tidal wave, pleasure-pain rolled from the top of her mound to her clit. "Oh, God, Dontoya."
Ecstasy filled her, emanating from the steady strong glide of his cock--by how he constantly stretched her pussy walls. The next instant, Sherilyn flew, mindlessly soaring...and gone, slipping within a new realm of bliss.
She heard his beastly groan as he speared to her core. With a strong arch his back, he spilled his cum.
"Sherilyn, mate. My mate."
When he let go of her wrists, then tenderly crushed her beneath him, Sherilyn swore no other man had ever felt this good, this fine.
Certainly, no man's cock ever possessed her with such continued virility.
A tiny voice punished her with "he should have worn a condom...what about disease?" Sherilyn dismissed it quickly, her ability to be logical rescuing her.
Hell, she'd been as good as dead. If Zance could heal her with his magic wolf juice...and since they'd both gone to great lengths caring for her, she doubted Dontoya would have done anything to harm her.
Lost in clouds of rapture, Sherilyn combed her fingers though his long, silky smooth hair. He began to rise, and she murmured, "No...please. You feel wonderful."
"He does, does he?"
She started at Zance's already familiar twang.
"I'm not hurting her, am I, pard?" Dontoya asked once he'd swung his gaze toward Zance and raised his chest from her.
At that moment, it smacked her like an icy snowball in the face. She'd lost control of her life, her entire life, just like she'd lost control now, surrendering beneath Dontoya.
"Somethin' wrong, sweetheart?" Zance asked. "Is me being here botherin' you?"
Well, double-dare hell, what did she say to that? Given the sheer immensity of the life changes she faced, Sherilyn didn't have a clue what she was feeling...not exactly, anyway.
"Take that big breeder of yours outta her. I need to check her eyes. She smells fine, though."
With the latent grace of a big cat, Dontoya tenderly withdrew his cock. He planted a sweet kiss on her mouth, then rolled from her, and off the bed.
"She needed," he began.
"Yeah, pard, I know. Her female emotions are raw, and her hormones are doublin' fast now."
Doubling fast now!...what the 'f'? Yeah, what the fuck? Because that's what they both want. To fuck me senseless.
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Join Sherilyn, and her shapeshifter cowboys, Zance and Dontoya.