Hi, all. I’m Summer McCoy. I’m part skinwalker and
half feline shifter. I was born into the
Goldspark big cat clan, rivals of the Black Hills Wolves. I most often take the
form of a raven, though, due to a little mishap in my youth, which is how I met
Brick Northridge, the great love of my life.
I’m so excited to be here today to tell you about
WOLF’S SONG, Brick’s and my love story. It was a little weird at first, you
know, seeing some of our intimate smexy interludes in actual black and white.
But as long as we’re together, the two of us can withstand anything: evil
alphas, rival clan wars, embarrassment, you name it. Actually, we’re not
together today – the first time we’re not, really, since we met. Brick’s over at the Daily Dose of Decadence blog, even as we speak. And don’t think I’m not a little worried about that.
BHWB:
Why would you be worried about that, Summer?
Summer:
Well, sometimes Brick needs me to keep him together.
BHWB:
Why?
Summer:
When he’s around other wolves, he can hear their voices in his head and
sometimes see visions of their deaths. But I sing to him and it seems to block
out all the other noise. Keeps him calm and mellow. And hot and hunky. So we can concentrate on the sexy!
BHWB:
Is there anything you wouldn’t do for him?
Summer:
Nothing! My Uncle Cal tried to tear us apart once. I won’t tell you the
horrible sacrifice I almost made…Instead, I accidentally shifted shot him full
of animal tranquilizer!
BHWB:
Hmmm. I don’t suppose you’d care to elaborate?
Summer:
Not without giving too much away!
BHWB:
Would you talk about the “mishap” you had that caused you to take the raven
form?
Summer:
Suffice it to say that I was up a tree as a kit, fell out of it, shifted, and
landed naked in front of half the cats. When I met Brick I was living in a
tree.
BHWB:
That’s somewhat ironic, don’t you think?
Summer
shrugs and grins: When my big handsome hunk goes all wolfy and wants to race
under the moon…I want to soar with him. And the heights are magical!
BHWB:
Can you tell us a little more of your story?
Summer:
Well, I’d rather you read it! But sure:
Black Hills Wolves - Book 4
BLURB:
....Ten
years ago, visions of death and the babble of lupine voices in his head, drove
lone wolf Brick Northridge to challenge his cruel and greedy pack alpha. Beaten
by the alpha’s thugs and banished from the pack, Brick lives a life of
seclusion in a mountain cabin in the Black Hills.
....Born
into a rival clan of feline shifters, skinwalker Summer McCoy, in her guise as
a raven, watches Brick from afar, giving him back a reason to live through her
sweet songs and special gifts.
....But
when her clan attempts to tear them apart and threatens the pack that banished
Brick so many years before, will their love be strong enough to withstand the
forces bent on their destruction?
EXCERPT:
Summer McCoy perched in the uppermost
branches of her special Ponderosa pine,
in raven guise, engaging in her
favorite pastime, spying on the
lone wolf chopping wood below. Two days’ worth of
whiskers shadowed his rigid jaw. She
loved when he forgot—or didn’t bother—to shave. Scruffy stubble suited him.
The sun beat
down on the back of
his bronzed neck and shone on
his hair, the color of roasted coffee, a shade lighter than the dark shadow that charcoaled his face.
... She fluffed her
feathers in anticipation. Take your shirt off,
Brick. She’d heard the giant
werebear, Gee, call him that name a decade ago.
He’d made some joke about a wall and the hardness of the male’s head. But Brick
hadn’t laughed back then. Not ever.
....He’d fascinated her from the moment he’d arrived in the glade,
bruised and battered. Once she’d learned his
name, she’d treasured it, taking pleasure
from repeating it often. Secretly, of course. Unwrapping the
syllable frequently to admire its radiance in the privacy of her tree house, the way a
woman wearing pearls against her warm skin enhanced their luminosity and iridescence.
....Now, as if he’d
heard her silent urging, he
complied with her plea, shrugging out of the plaid
flannel and flinging it onto a
tree stump. Her beak
opened as she sucked
in breath. Sweat glistened on his torso, glazing rippling pecs and abs, shoulders
broad enough to span the Badlands.
A huge, incredible specimen of masculinity. Thick biceps
flexed as he wielded the
ax. Her heart beat faster than a hummingbird’s
wings. Heat licked her.
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