This is the second of the series I’m currently relaunching. The first, Hunted, is currently available in both print and digital versions. Tracked was originally released approximately five years ago as Hunter’s Duty. This relaunch version has been re-edited and expanded. It is currently available as an e-book. (Update: it is now available in print but the editions aren’t yet linked.)
Here’s the blurb:
Maggie Thrasher is looking for a man, not to love but to kill. Duty to her pride and loyalty to her family demands it. Joshua Volk has betrayed pride, pack and clan. All he cares about is destroying the old ways and killing anyone, normal or shape-changer, who gets in his way.
Jim Kincade is dedicated to two things: upholding the law and protecting his pride from discovery. When Jim is called to the scene of a possible murder, the last thing he expects is to discover the alleged killer is a tracker from another pride. Now he’s faced with a woman who is most definitely more than she appears. Complicating matters even more, there’s something about her that calls to him and his panther is determined to claim her for his own.
Joshua Volk is looking for revenge. Maggie killed one of his own. His vengeance will bring Maggie’s worst nightmares to life. Is the passion between Maggie and Jim enough to defeat Volk’s plans or will Maggie’s determination to fulfill her duty to her pride be the death of them both?
And a short snippet:
The cop, who looked all of thirteen, held me against the hood of his squad car and finished cuffing my hands behind my back. As he did, lightning flashed overhead. I turned my head and stared down the alley, praying my imagination was playing tricks on me, that I hadn’t seen movement in the dark shadows. Damn my bad luck and the cop’s even worse timing. If only he’d been a few minutes later, I’d have finished the job and been well away from here.
Don’t get me wrong. Under different circumstances, and most definitely with a different partner, I wouldn’t object to being cuffed. I might even enjoy it. After all, there’s nothing wrong with a bit of role-playing between two consenting adults, especially if it led to spectacular sex. But neither of us were playing and I most certainly wasn’t consenting – at least not in that way.
Hell, all I wanted to do was survive the next few minutes. Unfortunately, the possibility of that happening grew smaller with each passing moment.
God, I hate my job sometimes.
With the cop’s forearm still holding me against the hood of his car, I blinked through the rain and sniffed. Nothing. Not that I really expected anything different. Once again, the wind shifted, this time blowing toward the alley opening. That, along with the cop’s fear and the smells of the car engine, made it almost impossible to scent my prey. Not good, not good at all.
Still, there was one small blessing, if you could call it that. The cop was human. That meant the stench of death clinging to me didn’t call out to him. He couldn’t smell its foul odor any more than he could read my mind. Fortunately, science hasn’t progressed that far. The last thing I needed was some gung-ho cop mucking about in my head, especially considering my activities of the last half hour.
The dark of night combined with the rain also helped. It kept him from seeing any blood that might have splashed on me during the kill, just as it kept him from seeing the bruises I knew marked my face. Nor could he see the way my jeans were torn at the left thigh where the feral managed to get in one good bite before I’d slit its throat and taken its head. Both the bruises and the bite would heal soon enough. What worried me was what forensics might reveal should the cops decide to check my clothes or look too closely at the alley.
Well, I’d worry about that later – assuming there was a later.
“Look, officer.” I tugged ineffectually at the cuffs and then tried to straighten, only to be slammed back against the hood. The sharp, bitter taste of blood filled my mouth and I spat, sorry the rain would wash the results from the hood. Damn it, this was getting old fast.
A clap of thunder sounded overhead, rattling the windows in nearby buildings and drowning out anything he might have said. Unfortunately, it also drowned out any sounds that might have come from the alley. The alley I could barely see as the rain beat down even harder. By the time I saw anyone, or anything, emerge from the shadows, it would be too late.
I’ve always known death would come for me one day, but I’d planned to meet it head-on, fighting. I wasn’t one to “go gently into the night.” Now it looked like I’d meet it head-on, but there’d be little I could do about it.