Enter Roxy Stamford, aka Roxy Harlow. She's a bear. She's never been around another of her kind, and though she knows there must be others like her, she's never been around another shifter before her trip to the island. On her 24th birthday, she reads a letter her mother writes, one that tells her about her past and where to find her future.
Roxy Stamford has been a lone bear for all of her life. But, on her twenty-fourth birthday, things are about to change. A letter from her mother, and a picture, sends her on an adventure of epic proportions.
Juneau Baxter isn't looking for a mate. As a security member for Wiccan Haus, his job always comes first--until the day he meets Roxy Stamford. From the word go, the little bear turns his world upside down. Her ambivalent attitude is a cover though, he sure of it, but what she's up to, he has no clue.
With the days slowly ticking away, Roxy is desperate to find the man in the picture, while trying to avoid Juneau who rubs her the wrong way while also drawing her in. When a chance encounter leaves her pissed off and hurt, strange things are put into motion.
Now, with time running out, she has to face her fears and acknowledge her pain. But, when push comes to shove, she's not sure who to trust. Juneau, who promises her nothing or the vampire who promises her the sweet relief of revenge.
One wrong move will cost her everything.
When the door opened, bright light momentarily blinded her. She blinked several times, before the interior of a resort came into focus. The juxtaposition threw her off balance. Billowing linen curtains fluttered in the breeze. The walls were painted in soft muted colors, giving it an inviting flare, even if she didn’t feel it. A woman a good six inches taller than her stepped in front of her. Her brow quirked, and a smirk formed on her lips. Roxy approved of her threads. Her long black hair hung loosely over her shoulders and cool blue eyes assessed her. “How sweet, a baby goth,” the woman said in a snarky tone.
She made a face and shook her head. Baby goth? Just because she dressed in black, had crazy hair and a tattoo, didn’t mean she fell into the goth category. She glanced up at the nametag on the woman’s shirt and snorted. “Saccharine…Sackara….” She suppressed a giggle when the woman sneered at her. “Sarka? Yeah, that works. I think Sarabeth said something along the lines of Sarka.”
“You’ve got a big mouth. Did your aunt tell you as much?” The woman crossed her arms. Her bright blue gaze cooled in an instant.
Roxy rolled her eyes, and nodded. “So many times. But, we’re not standing here talking about my aunt. We’re going to talk about you accusing me of being goth. I’m a bear. A were-bear. Big difference.” Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of two men in uniform standing off to the side watching her.
“Even worse,” Sarka sighed. “So what’s your ability? Care Bear stare?”
She lip curled, forgetting completely about the men. “What is your major malfunction, lady? Do you need to get laid? If so, I don’t mind being your wing man, but you have got to lose the ’tude. It’s not good for your inner goddess or whatever the hell you call it here.”
“I’m fine, I assure you. Follow me, bear.” Without another word, Sarka strolled away from her.
“Welcome to Wiccan Haus. It’s a pleasure to have you at Wiccan Haus. How can I help you at Wiccan Haus? Geez where are your manners?” She caught up to the woman, taking two steps for her one. “Could you slow the hell down, stretch? I know you have this whole gazelle thing going on.” Sarka snarl did nothing to stop her roll. “Hey, it works for you. Trust me. I wish I didn’t have short legs. It’s a curse.”
“Do you ever shut up?”
“Nope. Are you ever nice?”
“Nope.” Sarka led her through the hotel and finally stopped at the front desk. “Wait here.”
“Will do.” She saluted the woman with a smirk.
“Fucking bears,” Sarka snapped while walking off.