Taylor Law Has a New Book Out!
Leading The Shenandoah pack consumes most of Thomas Collowell’s time. The Alpha’s job is never done. That had never been more true than when a killer targeting shifters strikes too close to home. He doesn’t have time to deal with a mate, especially a human.
There is nothing Camdon Williams wouldn’t do for his best friend, which is why he was the best man in Jessie’s joining ceremony. While in Skyline Village, he gets more than he bargained for, including a strange attraction to the Sheriff.
When Camdon and Thomas are forced to work together to stop the killer, Camdon’s eyes are opened to a world he wouldn’t have believed existed. They both learn that there is no such thing as perfect timing. Sometimes, it’s about taking a chance… before it’s too late.
George Washington National Forest
The bang of a gunshot rang out, a loud interruption ricocheting through the soft musical echoes of the forest. The flapping of wings followed, vibrating the air overhead with the caws of a multitude of retreating birds before finally silence reigned. The hunter lowered the weapon and let out the breath he’d held while taking the shot. He took in another lungful of frosty air through his nose, closing his eyes as satisfaction filled him. Finally, some action.
He grinned and gave the adrenaline its head for a moment, reveling in the sensation as it heated his blood, and then he moved. Flipping the rifle over his back, he scrambled down from the God-forsaken tree stand and squirmed out of the safety harness. He’d been in the damn thing for hours and was stiff as hell.
He really preferred guided hunts, but a few friends had thought good, old-fashioned buck hunting in the Virginia woods would be something different for him and had snatched him up for the weekend. All day Saturday, and all of Sunday, sitting fourteen feet up in a tree and for what? His muscles had drawn up tight. His fingers and toes had gone numb, and he had not one antler to show for his trouble.
Now he remembered why he’d stopped doing this.
As quietly as possible, he adjusted his weapon of choice. The rifle was his pride and joy, way more firepower than he needed to shoot a buck in this region, but it was his go-to weapon, and he’d figured that at least nothing would get away. If he hit the bugger, it would be a kill shot—just as it should be. Nothing satisfied him as much as knowing that when he pulled the trigger, the prey would be dead before they even hit the ground.
As the hunter waded through the dew-covered underbrush, the smell of dirt and plants filled his nose. He breathed deep of the scent, the nip of the chilled air awaking his senses like nothing else could. He pulled down his night-vision goggles from the top of his head and leveled them over his eyes. Darkness had swallowed the woods, and with the new moon, it was going to be black as pitch out soon.
He’d been just about ready to call the weekend a bust when he’d heard movement about fifty yards from his station. While searching the direction with the scope, he’d seen something that had confounded him. It looked like a dog but was almost the size of a small pony. It had to be a wolf. He’d heard of coyotes in Virginia, but there hadn’t been reports of wolves for a hundred years or more. Didn’t matter. He wasn’t leaving without a kill if he could help it, so he’d shot the beast. Now, time had come to claim his prize.
Pulling his rifle level to his shoulder, he inched toward the rustling noise he heard, the random branch smacking his limbs as he walked. When he stepped through the brush and into a clearing, he saw the animal lying on its side, wiggling as it tried to stand. He’d hit it all right, in the shoulder mere millimeters from the clean kill shot it should have been. He closed his eyes, shook his head, and heaved a hard sigh as disappointment enveloped him. He was better than that. The animal panted, its chest rising and falling quickly as it forced out short, shallow bursts of air. The hunter removed the night-vision goggles, took aim, and moved closer until he was looking down the weapon at the animal’s head, directing his next shot for the skull.
Only before he could pull the trigger, the wolf started to change.
Right before his eyes, the muzzle shrank, and fur started to rescind along the body— getting shorter and thinner until it was completely gone. The hair rose on the back of his neck, and he flinched as snapping and popping sounds emanated from the creature. The limbs elongated, getting thicker, the shoulders wider.
He took a step backwards. His heart gave a kick and sped up as he tried to understand what had happened. The rifle became heavy in his hands, so he lowered it while gawking at the thing in front of him. “The. Fuck?”
Within a few moments, a naked man lay at his feet, and the wolf had vanished.
He swiftly raised his weapon again, taking aim. He didn’t know what the hell was happening, but he damn sure wasn’t going to let that… whatever it was, attack him. The thing moved to its side and clutched its bleeding shoulder. It didn’t seem as if it was going anywhere, but he refused to take any chances. The gunshot wound still seeped blood through the thing’s fingers, but it now looked much smaller than it should.
“Please…”The man’s wide amber eyes met his, filled with moisture and fear. “Please, don’t hurt me.”
“What the hell are you?” the hunter whispered. No way was that thing in front of him human.
“I’m a man.” It groaned and coughed a wet sound.
“No way. Tell me what you are!” He prepared to fire. Was this an alien invasion? Or were all the tales about werewolves true? And if werewolves truly existed, what other creatures could be out there right now? Without his consent, the hunter’s eyes quickly scanned the woods before darting back to the sight before him.
“Are you a werewolf?” He lifted his booted foot and roughly shoved the underbelly of the creature, turning it over onto its back. Damn, it really did look human. He would never have known there was anything different about this fellow had he not watched the change himself.
“Are. You. A werewolf?”
“No.” The creature gasped. “Shifter. I… mmm… shifter.”
Holy crap! He’d heard of that before. Basically, the same thing as a werewolf, at least in his mind. The thing wasn’t human, after all. In fact, it would be a service to humanity if he got rid of it. His heart kicked again but this time from excitement. A flush of warmth suffused his body, chasing away the cold.
Out of all the animals he’d killed all over the world, he’d never shot himself a shifter. Shit, he’d never even known such a thing really existed until now.
And just in time.
His life had become stagnant, boring. The satisfaction from the hunt and a clean kill didn’t carry the power it once had. Not since his father had died. There was nothing new out there for him. Nothing, except this.
Hunting was in his blood. His life consisted of his work—where he intended to change the world— and his greatest pleasure, hunting. He was lucky enough to own his own pharmaceutical company and lab so he had the ability to travel the globe, searching for the cure and his next big kill. Alaska, Africa, India, South America, all over the U.S., you name it and he’d been there. First, deer hunting, but that got old quickly. He’d moved up to moose… and on and on. He’d just come back from his fifth African safari with a nice set of elephant tusks. Paid a pretty penny for that shindig, too.
What was a little payoff money when it came to excitement? They were only animals anyway.
When his friends talked him into this weekend, he’d wanted to say no. They’d guilted him into it, though. Then those same friends had gone home earlier today, leaving him alone. They were a bunch of weak pretenders who couldn’t stand the cold, and couldn’t stay still for ten minutes without playing with cell phones. It was disgusting, really.
Everything had turned out better than he could have hoped for, though. He was the one getting the special kill because of their folly.
This made his year. Heck, this was the happiest moment he could remember. No one he knew had bagged a shifter before. He was the first—the greatest big game hunter in the world. His father would have been so proud.
“Please…” The creature tried to sit up but fell back again.
“Don’t worry.” The hunter smirked. “I’ll make this quick.”
Wrong Way- Book Two in The Shenandoah Pack series
Genre – Gay Paranormal Romantic Suspense
Word Count – 58,292
Buy Links –
And here’s more about Taylor!
Gay Romance and Crime Author, Taylor Law is a northern born, southern girl, with a free spirit. Taylor has lived in the southern United States most of her life, along with her huge Italian family. She started writing at a very young age; her first poem at six, her first song at seven, and stories followed directly after. She hasn’t stopped since.
She started with Barbie worlds that took over her room for days on end, standing on the kitchen table and singing randomness that eventually turned into songs, and making up endings to her favorite stories. It was no surprise to anyone when she started writing them all down. The surprise came, however, when she turned to writing LGBTQ romance and fiction. Now, some of her family regularly read her books and ask for more, and her books have hit several distributor bestseller lists in their genres, which is more than she could have ever hoped for.
Taylor has a paralegal degree, but she also went to college for Music, Theatrical Arts, and Criminal Justice. She worked as a contract and civil litigation paralegal for fifteen years before publishing her stories. She loves to learn new things. She also enjoys history, an eclectic array of music, puzzles, her friends and family, and laughing. Taylor would much rather read than watch television any day.
A romantic clear to her soul, Taylor continues to believe the elusive ‘Happily Ever After.’ She lives in Florida where it rains regularly – yes, the sunshine state is a myth. On any given day, you can usually catch her with a book in her hand or creating something.