Moonshine
By Moira Rogers
http://www.moirarogers.com
Coming on June 27th from Cobblestone Press
Claire is tired of pretending to be polite, docile…human. She wants to unleash the animal inside her, and she wants to do it with a man who can really handle her. Then she meets Lars, a dangerous, sexy alpha, in a smoky bar. They share some moonshine, a potent shifter aphrodisiac, and have blisteringly hot sex.
Their one night of intoxicated passion leaves her wanting more, but Lars isn’t interested in a woman who can only let loose while under the influence. Claire must then decide whether she’s ready–and willing–to truly embrace her wild side.
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Excerpt from Moonshine
Claire knew she stuck out like a sore thumb from the moment she walked into the bar, and realized it had nothing to do with the fact that she looked like shit. Dos Culebras was not a bar women usually entered alone unless they were professionals. The few non-hookers in residence belonged to men frightening enough to convince the rest of the clients to leave them alone.
She was not a professional. Worse than that, she was a shapeshifter who challenged every man in the bar just by walking into it. Hell, she wanted to be a challenge. She needed to meet another shapeshifter tonight. Someone like her, who understood her strength. Who could handle her strength. Someone who wouldn’t be afraid.
She heard her ex-boyfriend’s voice as she took her beer to a small table in the corner. It’s not you, Claire. You need someone…like you. Oh, he’d been full of false sympathy when he’d broken up with her. He’d pretended it wasn’t because she’d proven herself to be stronger than he was—yet again.
Humans are fragile. A morbid thought, but so true. Humans were fragile, and she had to stop wanting to be with one. Over twenty years had passed since magic had first crashed into science and bled into everyday life. The terror had finally subsided, and lots of men now found it hip to have a supernatural girlfriend. At least until she embarrasses them in front of the boys by being stronger than they are.
Human men. Their egos were as fragile as their bodies.
She was halfway through her beer before she realized she had attracted a stranger’s attention. He sat across the bar from her, in a corner booth, with his back against the wall and one booted foot propped on the cracked vinyl in front of him. A cigarette dangled from his mouth, and a long-neck hung loosely from his fingers. Tattoos encircled his arms, tribal designs that stood out against his skin and disappeared beneath the sleeves of his T-shirt. He looked dangerous. Perfect.
Even at that distance, his eyes bored into hers. The intensity of his unwavering gaze made her uncomfortable. She had no problem recognizing another shapeshifter. Not a wolf, which she might have expected, but a coyote. Like me.
She met his gaze unflinchingly, knowing he wouldn’t be able to resist the challenge of her presence.
You’ll do, whoever you are.
After a moment he rose, one fluid motion bringing him out of the booth. He stalked towards her, his movements at once graceful and dangerous, and she couldn’t take her eyes away from him. He stopped at the corner of the bar and slid onto a seat. For a minute, Claire thought he wouldn’t speak. Then his icy blue eyes softened, and he said in a low voice, “You look like shit.”
“Thank you. I feel like shit,” she replied quietly. “That’s why I have a beer.”
He paused for a moment, then set down his bottle. “I know who you are, you know.”
It figured. Coyotes weren’t rare, but there were only ten female coyotes in town compared to the fifty or so males. She turned her eyes back to the man and ran them over him in an assessing manner that bordered on insulting. “Really? Haven’t seen you in any of my classes. You don’t look like the college type.”
He just grinned, and the simple action transformed his face from broodingly dangerous to dangerously handsome. “Touchy bitch.”
“Yeah, maybe.” She finished the rest of her bottle and set it on the table. “My boyfriend just dumped my ass because I’m tougher than he is. I’m feeling a little touchy.”
He stared at her for a second. “Beer ain’t taking the edge off of that, doll. You do shots?”
She slanted him a look, wondering if he was the type of man who could find her something better than alcohol. Maybe the tricky little magical drug making the rounds now. Custom designed for shapeshifters, it provided the adrenaline rush of a shift, along with a healthy dose of desire. Right now, she wanted something to remind herself just how far she was from actually being human.
Of course, she wasn’t exactly sure how to ask him if he happened to have a bottle of moonshine in his pocket. So instead, she settled for a vague reply. “If I wanted to do the stuff I usually do, I wouldn’t be here.”
He nodded. “Hey, Wanda. Give us a couple of shots of Johnnie Walker, yeah?”
Claire waited until the woman set a shot glass in front of her. Then she picked it up and tossed it back, coughing a little as the liquid burned its way down her throat.
When she managed to blink away the reflexive tears that sprang to her eyes, she found him watching her. “It’s a long way from milk and cookies.”
“Yeah.†He threw back his own shot without blinking. “I’m Lars.”
“Lars.” Claire dropped the shot glass back on to the bar. “Hi. I’m Claire.”
