“Just ignore it. There’s no one there.” Her over-active imagination played havoc on her mind. Glancing into the forest every few steps, Lara had the eerie sensation that someone was watching her. It had her paranoid. The utter darkness that made up the surrounding forest was suffocating and her stride widened while she walked along the highway.

But what if it’s a something instead? She frowned as she thought the last and gave another look to her right before taking a deep breath to try and calm herself. “There’s no such thing as the boogieman. Now stop scaring yourself and get a grip.”

The clicking of her heels on the pavement was the only sound Lara had heard for the last thirty minutes and she concentrated on the sound to try and distract her mind. The air was stale and stagnant with the smells drifting from the forest as she walked the yellow line along the edge of the road. A full moon lit her way on the deserted highway as she looked for someone to help her and she was grateful for its light. The road was lit well, but seeing the unfortunate choice of shoes she had made earlier that morning, it was a small comfort. Her business pumps had already forced a blister on her left foot, the pain of it was noticed with every step she took. The constant clicking of her heels seemed to echo around her but the noise was a distraction. It helped to keep her mind off of things she’d rather not think about.

Her drive back to the place she’d spent her childhood had been uneventful until now. Miles of back roads had gone unnoticed and she drove through every small town without any thought other than getting her grandparents affairs in order and getting back home. She had just crossed the Georgia line over into South Carolina when her car had lunged forward and sputtered before it finally gave a hissing squeal and died.

Ten minutes of looking under the hood, for what, she had no clue, had done nothing but smear grease on her hands and caused a string of curses to escape her lips before she kicked the front of the car out of frustration. It was just her luck. Things had not been going well for her the past two months, why would today be any different?

The area she had found herself stranded in was as ghostly as they came. Not a single car had passed her on the road as she drove, and the last town she’d been through was over twenty miles back. So, she did the only thing she could do. She set off walking to find help. It seemed like the logical thing to do at first but now, as she walked the darkened highway, she had the odd sensation of being watched.

Her fear of the unknown caused a frightened laugh to break the silence around her before she stopped and stared into the forest.

Jacob was staring out the window when they stopped behind him and he eased the door open. “It’s clear,” he said. “No movement and I don’t smell anyone.”

Garrett put his hand on her shoulder and eased her toward the door. “What’s the shortest path to the creek?”

“The shortest isn’t the best,” he said. “If we head toward the upper ridge first, we can lose them in the brush. Remember how it smells up there?”

Garrett nodded and his nose crinkled. “Which way?”

“Run straight for the woodshed,” Jacob said. “There’s a path just behind it. When it veers to the left, turn right, through the brush. There’s no path but keep a straight line and we’ll be fine.”

Rayna nodded and peeked out the door. The shed was on the left side of the house, half hidden by a dense growth of trees. Her heart was in her throat and she swallowed to get the lump forming to clear. Garrett gave her one last look before placing his hand on her back and nodding to Jacob, who slung the door open.

Her feet hit the planks on the porch hard and she jumped the step to the ground, running hell bent for the woodshed. When she was behind it, she turned her head to see if Garrett was indeed following her and froze. She had a perfect view of the front of the cabin and what she saw nearly stopped her heart. Dozens of people were lined along the trees and the number of wolves was too numerous to count. Seeing them the night before had scared her, seeing them in the light of day terrified the hell out of her. They ranged in colors from black to red, gold and brown. They were all huge; those on four legs were crouched low to the ground and the ones standing erect towered to dizzying heights.

Jacob finally ran behind the shed, Garrett right behind him. She turned, running for the trail and hoped like hell Garrett was still with her. She’d kick his ass if he ditched her now.

Jacob took the lead and she could hear the heavy footfalls of Garrett behind her. She ran until her lungs ached from the effort and her muscles burned from exertion trying to keep up with Jacob with not much luck. He darted through the vegetation like a spry rabbit, dodging trees and logs, jumping them with an ease born of a creature used to the forest. A fallen tree limb buried in the underbrush caught her foot, tripping her, and she tried not to scream as she fell. Garrett caught her before she hit the ground.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She panted for breath and nodded her head at him. He wasn’t even winded, she noticed. He smiled and said, “Do you trust me?” She wanted to say, “Of course,” but couldn’t get enough air into her lungs to do so.

He winked at her and she managed a small squeak when he grabbed her and lifted her off the ground. She barely got her arms around his neck before he was running again.

Rayna held on, burying her face in his neck as the trees sped by in a blur. Her stomach felt queasy as she watched them and eventually closed her eyes as he raced through the forest.

The faint sound of running water reached her long minutes later and Garrett slowed before coming to a complete stop. Rayna lifted her head, looking behind them and saw nothing but forest. Looking at Jacob she saw him turning in a circle with an odd look on his face.

When he turned toward them, she knew something was wrong. “What is it?”

“Shh,” Garrett said, his hold on her tightening. He turned his head, scanning the forest and her heart raced when he eased her to the ground. “Go to Jacob,” he said, quietly.

She didn’t argue. Jacob grabbed her arm the moment she reached him and pulled her close to his body. Like Garrett, he was barely winded but he held himself as stiff as Garrett was. They sensed something she couldn’t.

Looking up at him confirmed it. His gaze was fixed over the rise, and she turned her head to look. Movement in the trees, brief flashes of shapes darted amongst the brush and when she saw the first wolf jump toward them, she screamed.

Jacob grabbed her with both hands, one over her mouth, before he turned, looking behind him and started pulling her away. She screamed into his hand, her heels scoring the ground as the area filled with wolves. When the first howl echoed through the trees, she looked toward Garrett, her eyes widening as she encountered a sight she never wanted to see.

He was changing. Shifting into the wolf.

Tears burnt her eyes as she watched his bones shift under his skin, lengthening and reshaping, his flesh convulsing as the clear liquid she’d seen on Bryce dripped and slid off his body. Thick hair grew in wild patches, racing down his limbs, his clothes ripping as he grew larger. His face contorted, his mouth elongating as teeth sharp enough to break bones sprang forth. He lifted his head and howled, the sound causing every hair on her body to stand on end. She was crying in earnest by the time Jacob picked her up and darted through the trees, away from Garrett and the dozens of wolves he faced alone.

The Warlord by Lily Graison
(571 words – excerpt from WIP story, The Warlord)

Brielle knew her death would be swift as warriors ran like locust across the battlefield. They darkened the horizon, their battle cries roared in her ears and froze her body in fear. A month of training wasn’t enough regardless of what Dalek told her. Years of it wouldn’t have prepared her for this.

“Remember what I’ve taught you,” Dalek said. “The fear will only kill you faster. Keep your eye on the enemy and aim true. You’re a warrior now. Think like one.”

She looked to her left, glancing at him by her side.

“Stick by my side and run if you have to.”

She nodded her head and steadied her nerves. She could do this. She had to.

Stiffening her spine, she pushed her helmet up again. Her sword felt heavy suddenly, her body fatigued.

Inhaling deeply, she turned and faced the rushing army. How she’d survived this long was a miracle in itself. Weeks hiding amongst these warriors and she still stood. Her body ached, her mind numb in fear, yet every new battle was a test of her endurance. If her father could only see her now. Would he praise her for her resilience or curse her for her stupidity?

With a battle cry of her own, Brielle hefted the sword above her head, swinging it in a wide arch when she was rushed. She focused on her target, dodging his blows and wielding her own as she’d been taught.

She was half blind by the helmet she had stolen. The heavy piece constricted her line of sight and hindered more than it helped. She pushed it up with her shoulder, turned and deflected a blow swung at her back.

Time stood still, her actions one of practiced determination and just enough skill to have let her survive as long as she had. The men rushing down the hill overwhelmed them in minutes. The fallen men at her feet she knew were the lucky ones. They’d not have to suffer the way she would if she were found.

A roar loud enough to shake the ground caught everyone off guard and the battle slowed to a standstill. Brielle turned when the others did, peering behind them as the sound of clanking metal and harsh battle cries drifted across the valley.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I’m not sure,” Dalek said. “Stay behind me.”

Men numbering in the hundreds topped the hill. Brielle could only gape when they rushed the field, leaving nothing in their wake but turned earth behind them. Those around her ran, some to face the men coming toward them, others fleeing.

“Oh goddess, help us,” she whispered.

Dalek held his swords in front of him. Crouching low to the ground. She took a step behind him, mimicking his movement. When he straightened all of a sudden, and turned his head to look at her, she raised an eyebrow in question.

“The hill,” he said.

Brielle looked back up the rise. A lone warrior on a horse now sat there and she watched him in rapt fascination. His silhouette against the dying sun made him appear larger than life. He was broad shouldered, sitting tall upon his horse. His black armor held an unearthly gleam in the filtered light as he viewed the scene below. It only took her a breath to realize he was the man the others spoke of in hushed whispers.

The Warlord.

I’ll be sharing Teasers on Tuesday with you all and today, is an excerpt from Wicked: Tempt Me Not, Book 1 in the Wicked series.

Devin Shaw, front man for the band, Wicked, is forced into seclusion by his manager after his destructive behavior almost destroys the band. Sent to a remote cabin alone isn’t Devin’s idea of fun, but to save his career, he’ll do what it takes.

Holly Baker, escaping the hassles of her big city life, arrives in the mountains of Tennessee and awaits the arrival of her friend, Roxy, to start their two-week vacation. Their plans change drastically when Roxy is called away at the last minute, leaving Holly to fend for herself.

Devin and Holly’s worlds collide when a mix up strands them in the same cabin. Alone with nothing but each other for companionship, how will Holly react when she realizes she’s trapped with none other than the hottest lead singer the country has seen in years? Will Devin be able to work with a constant distraction the pretty brunette offers? Or will the two discover that sometimes temptation is a wicked dessert best served hot!

Standing, Devin climbed from the pool, slipped his jeans back on and grabbed his boots and shirt, running up the trail after her.

I’ve seen this on several blogs lately and thought it looked like fun. I’ll be doing one every week here on the blog, the excerpts coming from my published books and the WIP’s (works in progress) I have going. This week, we have 6 sentences from my current WIP, His Brother’s Wife…Book 1 in the new Historical Western Romance series I’m writing.

Her wet skin made the material of her gown nearly transparent. She raised the towel to her chest before lifting her chin a notch. “Do you mind?”

His gaze settled back to her face as his smile widened. “Not at all. Feel free to get naked in my kitchen anytime you like.”

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