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The Cajun Werewolf’s Captive – Stormy Weather Book 1 by Selena Blake

The Cajun Werewolf’s Captive
Stormy Weather Book 1
NY Times Bestselling Author
Selena Blake


Sebastian Deveraux is the Alpha of his pack and like all the Deveraux men, he’s sexy as pure sin. He’s waited for decades for just the right woman. For his mate. And ten years ago he’d been sure he’d found her in Amanda St. James. But she’d run from him.

Now she’s back. He’ll do anything to keep her. Even if it means tying her to his bed.

Note: This book was released under a different title: The Cajun’s Captive. The book content is the same.

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When Amanda St. James gets flowers and a note from Sebastian expressing condolences, she knows she has to see him. Instead of ringing to be let in the gate, she climbs over the wall. She thinks she knows what Sebastian is but wants the confirmation or perhaps a confrontation. When she fled into the night leaving him behind she fully expected him to chase, but he didn’t.

The Deveraux brothers and two of their cousins have formed their own pack. Sebastian is their Alpha but now needs a mate, but she left him years ago and hasn’t looked back. That is until she shows up drenched sneaking around on their porch. He’s determined to get answers and his mate. Was she looking for a story or was she back for him?

This is a favorite scene.

She found it hard to formulate an excuse and decided the truth was her best bet.

“I got the flowers. Thank you,” she said and turned back to her own bowl. Chill bumps broke out over her skin as they always did when Sebastian was near. Her nipples began to harden into little peaks. She couldn’t help staring at his fingers, wondering what they would feel like on her skin.

“Flowers?” Jules and Sebastian echoed in unison.

She nodded. “At my father’s funeral. They were beautiful.”

“Funeral?” Sebastian asked. He sounded puzzled.

Unease settled over her and she frowned up at him.

“Yes, Sebastian.” She emphasized his name. “The flowers you sent. Last week, after my father died.”

“You sent her flowers?” André asked, looking pleased.

“I have the note in my car. I thought—” she broke off. Oh, it didn’t matter what she thought. Obviously, she’d been wrong. Again. Just like she had all those years ago. Only last time, she’d had the proof of how foolish her thoughts were from his own mouth.

His secretary had probably sent the stupid flowers, but that didn’t explain how he hadn’t known about the funeral.

He knelt in front of her. “What did you think?” he asked, his tone quiet and seductive.

She glanced over at Jules and then André. He was crazy if he thought she was going to offer a confession. Especially in front of his brothers—

“Leave us,” he bit out.

She jumped at the terse tone and stared, wide-eyed, after Jules and André as they walked out of the room, gumbo in hand.

She fumed. So, he was still playing games, confusing her. Playing the alpha dog and driving a wedge.

“You should be nicer to them,” she said.

“They understand that we need our space.”

“Oh yeah?”

Oui. Now tell me. What did you think when you got this letter?”

“You know what? It doesn’t matter. I really need to go. I have a plane to catch. Are my clothes ready?”

“They’re in the wash.” He gripped the arms of her chair. “And you’re not going anywhere.”

His tone had changed to one full of authority, only adding to her rising irritation. The perfect example of hot and cold. He’d been so sweet, so tender two minutes ago and now he was acting like a cave man again.

Why the hell had she even come back here? She could have just sent a thank you card. Honestly, what had she expected? Him to throw open his front door, get down on his knees and profess his undying love for her? Admit his stupidity at letting her go in the first place, and then for not coming after her for nine years?

Hah. Like that was going to happen.

Gathering her wits, she shoved the chair back and stood.

“You know what Sebastian—”

“What?” He was toe-to-toe with her, crowding her. She took a step back, but he followed, a predatory gleam in his eyes.

She swallowed. No. Her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. There was a danger in him—

His cell phone rang, and she watched his smooth movements as he answered the call. His gaze never left hers as he spoke a handful of words to whoever was on the other end of the line.

“I’ll take care of it. Thank you.”

Well, at least he was still cordial. Underneath the Alpha dog was a gentleman. A terrier perhaps. No. A wolf. Make no mistake, Amanda. He’s part wolf. Part animal. A hunter.

She stepped back again, fear and curiosity warring with the little voice that told her not to give up. Not to give in. Stand tall. But another voice told her that she didn’t really know him. She didn’t know anything at all. She didn’t know what he was, what he was called, did he shift at full moon, at will? What? It was that same little voice that had so long ago urged her to run.

Perhaps it made her a coward, but when it came to her heart she was a coward. Sadly, she could remember the exact day, the exact moment she’d become a coward.

“Thanks for the gumbo.” She straightened her spine. “You’ll understand if I have your robe sent to you.”

With that, she turned and fled the kitchen. She ran across the pine floors toward the front door. She’d crawl through the mud if it meant finding her keys. Clutching the robe around her, she reached for the doorknob.

Strong arms wrapped around her waist and hoisted her into the air.

“Put me down!”

“Not gonna happen, chѐrie.”

“Put me down this instant, Sebastian.” Her voice was full of heat and censure.

He slung her over his shoulder enjoying the feel of her small squirming body. He knew he shouldn’t get so excited by her helpless struggles, but he couldn’t help himself. She beat her small fists against his back as if that would make a difference.

He laughed and nipped at the flesh of her hip. “Not on your life, sweetheart. We’ve gotta get on the road.”

“The road?”

Oui. Hurricane’s a comin’. Gotta get the cabin ready. Burke and Laurent are still tied up so that leaves me. Don’t want any broken windows.” He knew he could’ve had Jules or André make the drive to batten down the hatches. But the cabin was deeper in the bayou, far enough away for secrets to remain hidden. And he’d already planned on taking care of it himself.

Jules comments had given him a lot to think about and he needed some time alone to mull everything over.

But now that Manda was with him…they could get to the bottom of everything.

He had plans for that gorgeous body of hers. He couldn’t wait to feel her feminine curves against him, under him. Her tight sheath around his cock as he slid in and out of her, bringing them both to the brink of ecstasy. The bayou was perfect for what he had in mind and no one could hear her scream his name.

“There’s no reason for me to go with you,” she insisted, sounding a little more panicked now and a lot more breathless.

“Sure, there is, chérie.” Sebastian opened the front door and stepped out into the hot damp air.

“I don’t think so.” She kicked, her knee nailing him in the gut.

“Hold still, woman! I don’ wanna hurt you.”

That got her attention. She froze atop his shoulder.

He cursed beneath his breath and started down the stairs toward the garage. The rain showered down on them, soaking the thin fabric of his T-shirt, but he hardly noticed.

“You know I would never hurt you, Manda. Do not even think it.”

She was silent for several long moments as if she was mulling over his words. Good.

“Just let me go, Sebastian. I have a job, a life in New York!” she pleaded.

“And some boyfriend up there as well, no doubt.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Really? No boyfriend.” He entered the garage and pulled his key chain from his pocket. His investigator hadn’t reported any man in Amanda’s life for several years but hearing the confirmation from her lips was all the sweeter. Did she still pine for him the way he did for her?

“Really. Now. Put. Me. Down!”

“Can’t. You’ve seen too much.” That much was true. “And besides, traffic has been grounded at the airport thanks to the storm.”
Blake, Selena. The Cajun Werewolf’s Captive (Stormy Weather, Book One) (Kindle Locations 487-545). Ecila Media Corp. Kindle Edition.

Although Sebastian does tie her up to keep her from running, she really isn’t captive to anything more than the storm and her love for this wolf.

There’s so much to resolve between these two, and I really think Sebastian is a bit clueless at times.

A short fun read with lots of snark and some sizzling heat!

5 Contented Purrs for Selena!

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   Selena Blake

An action movie buff with a penchant for all things supernatural and sexy, Selena Blake combines her love for adventure, travel and romance into steamy paranormal romance. Selena’s books have been called “a steamy escape” and have appeared on bestseller lists, been nominated for awards, and won contests. When she’s not writing you can find her by the pool soaking up some sun, day dreaming about new characters, and watching the cabana boy (aka her muse), Derek. Fan mail keeps her going when the diet soda wears off so write to her at selenablake@gmail.com

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Bewitched By His Fated Mate – Stigward: New Orleans Book 1 By Selena Blake

Bewitched By His Fated Mate
Stigward: New Orleans Book 1
NY Times Bestselling Author
Selena Blake


Bloody hell. How inconvenient.

Werewolf Byron Adwell prides himself on his hard-won self-control.

He’s hours away from beginning the most important job of his life. What seemed like a harmless drink with his new team suddenly feels like fate is meddling. His restraint is tested like never before the moment he spots her.

The gorgeous green-eyed, raven-haired witch has a magnetic energy that calls to him like a siren. She walked straight out of his dreams into the exclusive New Orleans club for paranormals.

What’s more, she makes him want to forget all his training, his plans, his duty.

This can’t be happening. Not here. Not now.

Not with the lives of the six resident Stigward Guardians in Byron’s hands. His time, focus and dedication must be on them, on his work.

He absolutely, positively does not have time for a mate.

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For once I am starting a series at the beginning and this one is going to be good.

Cassia is a bartender at Club G, an exclusive club for paranormals in New Orleans. She’s a talented witch and making some drinks is a show worth watching as is her subtle yet effective handling of obnoxious patrons.

Byron is starting the most important job of his life in the morning, but tonight he is out with the people he would be working with and also getting some training. Gael is leaving the position Byron is beginning, butler for the Stigwards. The position is far more than the word implies. It’s a stepping stone to training and the next level of protectors.

From the moment he entered the bar, Byron was very aware of the beautiful bartender. He immediately sensed she’s his mate but this was not the time. He can’t afford to lose his focus, he’d been working his entire life for this opportunity and he wasn’t going to mess it up.

Cassia on the other hand while attracted to Byron isn’t opposed to a fling. She also can’t fall in love but for another reason entirely. She could however entice and possibly get him to walk her home. Something she succeeds at.

This is a favorite scene.

The crowd had thinned to a trickle, but he still sat with Gael, looking observant in a way that made her skin flush. The rest of the team had left a while ago. As much as he’d been keeping an eye on her, she’d been watching him. Her divided attention had cost her a frosty beer mug, but his strong jaw and wide shoulders were worth a broken glass or two.

She smiled as she wiped down the bar.

“Why don’t you head out? I’ve got this,” Xavier said, handing over her share of the tips. She tucked it into her front pocket with a quick thank you.

Cassia glanced at the lone couple swaying in the middle of the dance floor. Maddie, the curvy, strawberry-blonde from earlier, had snagged a hottie of her own.

And he only had eyes for her. They seemed completely in tune with each other as they moved ever so slightly to a slow song.

Cassia’s gaze skipped past the couple to Byron. A strong name for a seemingly powerful man. He looked like he should be a pro football player. American, not the real football. And his jaw… holy smokes, his jawline.

“See you tomorrow,” she said to Xavier, heading for the break room. After gathering her things and slipping into her leather jacket, she returned to the club floor.

Byron’s blue eyes flicked her way as if he’d been waiting for her.

A girl could get used to that.

Even though her apartment was only an eight-minute stroll away, and she wasn’t particularly scared of the dark, she felt like a little company.

“Any of you fine gentlemen want to walk a lady home?”

Byron shot a quick glance to Gael and then Alistar. What was that about?

Gael gave him an almost imperceptible nod, and she wasn’t sure she appreciated Byron needing permission to see her.

But when he said “Happy to, love,” with the dreamiest trace of an accent, all was forgiven and forgotten.


She was old enough to have heard it all, but seriously, there was something about the way the word love rolled off a British tongue.

Offering him a smile, she took a step back and then headed up the stairs to the mezzanine. Again, she felt Byron’s gaze as if it was a genuine caress. Up her calves, thighs, ass, higher still to her waist.

It’d been a long time since Cassia had experienced such a delicious hyper-awareness. And to be honest, feeling so connected, so curious was new.

Primož, their bouncer, gave her a nod and wished her a good night. His gaze locked on Byron, giving him a once over.

Out on the sidewalk, she took a deep breath of the humid air. The sky was cloudless and inky, but she couldn’t see any stars thanks to all the city lights. It was quiet, by New Orleans’ standards, and there weren’t many people out and about.

That was fine by her. The only person who mattered was at her side.

“Mind if we take a detour? The river’s really peaceful this time of night.”

A quick glance at his profile had her insides turning to mush again.

“Not at all.”

They fell into a companionable silence, and she surprised herself by not rushing to fill it with idle chatter. Somehow, he followed her lead without feeling like he was following. But beneath his calm exterior, she sensed a potent energy, and could tell that he was aware of everything going on around them. Every shadow. Every doorway.

“So, you’re the new butler at the Stigward House,” she said, as they strolled down St. Ann Street toward Jackson Square.

It wouldn’t be long before local artists returned, setting up their wares around the perimeter of the park. Colorful paintings would cover the iron fence. Tables boasting brilliant clothes would dot the stone path, and women would sit ready to read tarot cards.

Tourists flocked to the Square most days, steeping in the history and culture. And while that was great for the city and its bottom line, such people were easy pickings for unscrupulous vampires. That was partly why the Stigward had such a strong presence here. Only vamps with a death wish were crazy enough to hunt on Stigward turf.

“As of tomorrow,” he responded in that deep, luxurious voice. “Though Gael will stay on a while to mitigate the transition.”

That explained a lot, actually. How stoic he was, for starters. She hadn’t noticed him fidgeting, picking at invisible lint or bouncing a foot. He seemed completely at ease with his surroundings. Who knew calmness could be so sexy?

The vest helped.

She cut him a look.

And those shoulders. Good grief.

Had she mentioned his biceps? They filled out the button-down shirt fabulously.

But it was more than an innate sense of confidence and incredible physique that set him apart from so many of the immortals she’d met. Where they oozed cockiness, he radiated calm. Where other males were brash and liked to show off how strong they were, Byron was quiet, watchful. She bet he didn’t miss a single detail.

Because she was extra aware of the energy others gave off, being around someone with such a tight leash on himself was almost intoxicating.

And at the same time… a challenge.

He might be brand new to the Stigward team, but she already sensed a protectiveness in him.

“I have a feeling you’re going to be very good at it.”

He and Gael hadn’t let the team sit without a drink for any length of time. And they had not given any of the waitresses a chance to take their order, either. The butlers took care of their Stigwardians at home, and away.

Years ago, she’d learned that a Stigward butler preferred drinks go right from the bartender’s hand to his. There was less opportunity for any funny business, and a Stigwardian couldn’t be too careful.

They were much loved, but also much hated. There were those who’d try to bring them down by any means. One by one, if they had to.

Cassia had always been slightly fascinated with the Stigwardians. Though she knew the local crew by name, they kept to themselves. She felt safe when the elite warriors were around. But she wasn’t a groupie, by any stretch.

Except, she thought, giving Byron another sideways glance, he might be the exception.

“How long have you been in New Orleans?” she asked, as they crossed the railroad tracks that ran parallel to the park, and the Mighty Mississippi river.

“Since last Friday, actually. I’ve been familiarizing myself with the city and the shops. How about you?”

“I grew up here. But that was ages ago. And I was away for a while.”

“Seeing the world?”

“As much as I could.”

A large ship powered beneath the iconic Crescent City bridge. As it drew closer, its mammoth shape blotted out the other side of the Mississippi.

A sharp breeze whipped her hair around her face.

She couldn’t begin to guess how many hours she’d stood on the brick path or sat on one of the benches watching ships ferry cargo up and down the river. It was a true artery of America, and she often wondered what was in the big, metal containers.

“You enjoy this,” he said, staring down at her, a thoughtful expression softening his features.

The ornate lamps behind them cast his blond hair in a honeyed light. She half turned and smiled up at him. Gracious, he was tall.

“I do. I love watching all the boats go by, wondering where they’re going. Where they’re coming from.”

“There’s probably an app that will tell you all that.”

“I know. But that ruins the mystery.”

Somehow, he seemed closer even though she was sure he hadn’t moved. He glanced over the top of her head and once again, she got the feeling that he was ensuring her safety.

But then those pale-blue eyes met hers, and she felt like she was the center of his universe. So much attention, such keen focus and all dedicated to her.

Her stomach fluttered, and her hands twitched with the desire to smooth up his chest. This close, she could see how impeccably tailored his clothing was. From the fit of the vest to the polish of his leather shoes.

Did he do everything well? She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t tempted to find out.

His gaze narrowed on her lips. “You like mystery?”
Selena Blake. Stranded with a Cajun Werewolf: A Stormy Weather Story (Kindle Locations 2251-2319).

We learn about the Stigward protectors, what they do and how they work. Byron does manage to pursue Cassia but at first he does it as a warning of a danger around the club.

There’s suspense and intrigue entwined with the magical setting of New Orleans. The romance that simmers before it sizzles is really just icing on this tale.

I can’t wait to read the next book in this series.

5 Contented Purrs for Selena!

Coming Soon!
Click the Cover for Buy Links and More!

   Selena Blake

An action movie buff with a penchant for all things supernatural and sexy, Selena Blake combines her love for adventure, travel and romance into steamy paranormal romance. Selena’s books have been called “a steamy escape” and have appeared on bestseller lists, been nominated for awards, and won contests. When she’s not writing you can find her by the pool soaking up some sun, day dreaming about new characters, and watching the cabana boy (aka her muse), Derek. Fan mail keeps her going when the diet soda wears off so write to her at selenablake@gmail.com

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Stranded with a Cajun Werewolf – Stormy Weather Book 5 by Selena Blake

Stranded with a Cajun Werewolf
Stormy Weather Book 5
NY Times Bestselling Author
Selena Blake


Kendall Carver knows one thing for sure – security doesn’t last. Injured and on the run, a sinfully handsome stranger saves her life.

Cajun werewolf Burke Devereux learned his lesson 200 years ago. No humans, ever. No looking, no touching, no kissing and certainly no making love. Eager to escape his Pack’s matchmaking attempts he heads for his cabin. But nothing could have prepared him for the raging blizzard or the beautiful woman begging for his help.

Burke’s always prided himself on his self control but as things get cozy, desire sparks and old secrets are brought to light. He must decide how far he will go to protect her.

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Once again I’ve started a book at the end of the series instead of the beginning. I really need to do better with that aspect, although it does tend to make me want to go back to the beginning.

Burke is headed to his cabin in New Hampshire, some skiing would help him settle a bit. The strain from everyone in his family pushing him to mate is overwhelming. He didn’t expect to be traveling in a blizzard or for a little red car to go zooming around him. Even with four wheel drive it was hard navigating the road.

Now anyone who’s ever driven in a snow storm knows what happens to speeding little cars and this one ends up like expected, in a snow drift. Which of course almost causes Burke to lose control of his vehicle as well, but though he struggles, manages to be okay.

He knows he has to check the vehicle and the driver when he has no cell signal.

This is a favorite scene.

The other driver made no move to back out of the drift and Burke figured that the idiot had wrecked his car. He pulled out his cell phone. He’d report the wreck and wait until the wrecker got here. If it got here.

No signal.

Great. He tossed the phone aside and reached behind the passenger’s seat for his coat. Maybe the lunatic in the other car had a phone that would work. Tendrils of snow swooshed into the car as he opened the door. Bracing against the icy wind, he planted one boot in the ankle-deep snow and then the other.

Tugging on his thick Northface coat, he headed down the road toward the other car, once again questioning his decision to try to beat the storm.

The collision had killed the engine, mangling what he could see of the front end.

Ah hell.

A blonde lay hunched over the steering wheel, not moving. Blood soaked the back of her gray sweatshirt. He knocked on the window and wished he’d tugged on his gloves. The woman didn’t move. He peered into the car, looking for a phone, and saw a large purse wedged between her chest and the steering wheel.

He tested the handle of her door. Locked. Figured. The small window behind the driver’s seat was shattered, half the glass missing. He reached through the gaping hole and flipped the lock.

He wrenched the door open and checked the pulse at her throat. Still thumping. He braced both hands around her neck and the base of her skull and then, as gently as he could, settled her back in her seat and took stock of her injuries.

And arrestingly adorable features. She looked like an angel, a cherub, with glossy pink lips. With a bloody gash across her forehead and— was that a pink streak in her hair? He leaned closer. And a thick purple stripe, too.

A fierce wind howled overhead, making the trees sway and groan. She gave a soft moan, and then, as if she’d awakened, her body went rigid.

“You’re okay, petit. Just relax. Where do you hurt?”

Stunning aqua blue eyes met his for an instant before she closed them again, wincing. The fear he’d glimpsed there shocked him. “Please,” she said, her voice hoarse and barely a whisper. He leaned toward her to hear over the roar of the elements. “Don’t let… him… take me.”

There was a raw desperation to her plea, and somehow he knew that this woman had rarely, if ever, asked for help. But she was asking now. No. She was begging.

He pivoted to look back down the road. Aside from the brilliant white snow, all he saw were bony gray tree trunks. It wasn’t fit for man or polar bear out here. Who the hell was chasing her? Better question, what was she doing in this storm?

The woman didn’t answer. She’d passed out cold, her body limp in the seat again. Gritting his teeth, he surveyed the damage to her car. He’d be surprised if it wasn’t totaled.

What he needed was a cell phone signal.

Hoping she didn’t wake up, freak out, and deck him in the balls, he leaned into the car and unzipped her purse. Using her door as cover from the wind, he squatted down and opened the bag. He’d never snooped through a woman’s purse before. Had never had any need to, until now. And though he wasn’t sure what he’d expected to find, he had at least hoped it would contain a cell phone.

Or a flare gun.

Hell, at this point, with cold snow biting his ass, he’d settle for a homing pigeon.

But what he found inside her bag was baffling. A curling iron that had seen better days, half a bag of Doritos, and a smorgasbord of cosmetics. Mostly lip gloss. In every shade and flavor imaginable. But no cell phone.

Is this how she planned on protecting herself? Distract the guy with a flash of Berry Tasty lipstick and the scent of flavored corn chips, then beat him over the head with the curling iron before choking him with the frayed wire?

He would have laughed if the situation weren’t so dire. The car let out an agonizing groan as another blast of air hit them, whipping her hair away from her face.

Maybe he could head back down the mountain for help but in this weather, who knew how long it would take him to return? She’d have frostbite by the time he got back. No, he couldn’t leave her.

What the hell are you doing, Deveraux? You’re not a knight on a white steed. Just close the door and get on the road. She’s not your problem.

But he couldn’t stop the protective instincts surging inside him. He was after all, male and a werewolf, both of which made him territorial to the core. Besides, what kind of asshole left a complete stranger, an unconscious woman, alone in a blizzard to fend for herself?

He glanced at her body. She wore a pair of jeans and a thin looking sweater. Letting his eyes trail down her curvy frame, he frowned at the sneakers on her feet. Way to prepare for the Great White North, lady.

He flipped open her wallet and glanced at her photo. She was truly angelic when awake and unbloodied. Her name was Kendall Carver from somewhere he’d never heard of in Florida state.

All right, Kendall Carver from Florida, let’s get you out of here.

After zipping her purse, he carefully scooped her up. Settling her against his chest, he turned for his Land Rover and tried to ignore the delicious feel and sweet scent of the beautiful woman unconscious in his arms.

A loud crack sounded overhead. Burke’s gaze jerked up to the ice-covered trees. Pop. Muscles tensed, he bolted for his SUV as a massive tree sliced through the forest, raining ice and snow around them. The boom of tree connecting with earth jolted his bones.

There was an instant of groaning metal, then a bright flash of light, then a wave of heat and a loud bang. Sheltering the woman in his arms, he dared a glance over his shoulder. Her car was no more.

Gin barked from the backseat, but Burke needed no urging. He wrenched the rear passenger’s door open and told his companion to get in the back. Gin obeyed the order, his big black nose twitching as he tried to catch Kendall’s scent. Somehow Burke managed to adjust the seats and settle her without jarring her too badly. At least he hoped so. She didn’t rouse. He shrugged out of his coat and tucked it around her from chin to foot.

He shut the door and surveyed the damage. Through the thick snow he saw the massive tree lying where he’d just been standing, now a pile of splintered wood. The debris covered his footprints.

Thank the gods she hadn’t been in it.

Another gust of wind battered the mountain, fanning the plume of black smoke into a gray fog.

His keen ears picked up the sound of a motor on the road below. Gin stood in the back and let out a low growl. If Kendall was right about someone following her, they’d have to do it on foot. But he wasn’t going to stick around to watch.
Selena Blake. Stranded with a Cajun Werewolf: A Stormy Weather Story (Kindle Locations 101-155).

Once back to his cabin with her, he checks her for injuries and finds she’s been shot. Now he’s got to remove a bullet to prevent this human from getting an infection or worse.

When Kendall wakes, she knows she’s warm but isn’t sure she’s safe. Her magic is locked so she has none of the senses she’s used to using. She looks and smells human, although she isn’t.

Burke, finds himself attracted to Kendall but he’s sworn off humans. The pain of that one relationship so many years ago won’t allow him to go that route, ever again.

As she heals and their attraction grows, he comes up with a solution to both their problems. At least he thinks so.

A short perfect bed-time read with just the right amount of heat.

5 Contented Purrs for Selena!

Click the Cover for Buy Links and More!

   Selena Blake

An action movie buff with a penchant for all things supernatural and sexy, Selena Blake combines her love for adventure, travel and romance into steamy paranormal romance. Selena’s books have been called “a steamy escape” and have appeared on bestseller lists, been nominated for awards, and won contests. When she’s not writing you can find her by the pool soaking up some sun, day dreaming about new characters, and watching the cabana boy (aka her muse), Derek. Fan mail keeps her going when the diet soda wears off so write to her at selenablake@gmail.com

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