Queen Bitch of the Callowwood Pack (Siren Publishing Classic)

Queen Bitch of the Callowwood Pack

Julianna Morris didn't know werewolves existed…until she became one.

Hiding her new identity, Julianna returns home only to find her teenage crush, Jeff Lightfoot, is the future Alpha of the Callowwood werewolf pack. She's unexpectedly chosen as a candidate for the pack's next Luna, the Alpha female—and Jeff's mate. This is perfect, except Julianna knows nothing about being a werewolf, and someone's determined to make her fail the Seven Tests of the Luna.

Jeff Lightfoot lusted after Julianna for years, even when he thought she was human. Now she's home and all his—if she passes the tests. She's his True Mate and he wants no one else, but pack politics trump Mother Nature and will prevent him from choosing Julianna if she fails.

For the future she wants, Julianna must pass the tests to become Queen Bitch of Callowwood—or watch Jeff take another woman as his mate.

A Siren Erotic Romance

Genre:
Paranormal, Vampires/Werewolves

Length:
98,105 words
 

Siobhan Muir

EROTIC ROMANCE

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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IMPRINT: Erotic Romance

QUEEN BITCH OF THE CALLOWWOOD PACK

Copyright © 2012 by Siobhan Muir

E-book ISBN:
978-1-61926-721-3

First E-book Publication: June 2012

Cover design by Harris Channing

All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED:
This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers

Dear Readers,

If you have purchased this copy of
 
Queen Bitch of the Callowwood Pack
 
by Siobhan Muir from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy

This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.

The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.

This is Siobhan Muir’s livelihood.
 
It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Muir’s right to earn a living from her work.

Amanda Hilton, Publisher

www.SirenPublishing.com

www.BookStrand.com

Dedicated to Tom Keller, who doesn’t read romance, but loved the rough draft of this story, and continuously asks me when it’s coming out. It’s out, Tom! Thanks for the encouragement.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

There are many people who have helped me develop this story and I’m so grateful for their help. Lanya Ross made sure the logic carried all the way through. Natascha Jaffa and Cara Michaels helped me make a kick-ass hook at the beginning, Emily Drew beta read and helped me with the “dreaded” synopsis, and Olivia Graham graciously did the first round edits. Thanks also go to Devin Govaere for asking questions I’d never considered to make the story stronger. And of course, thank you to my husband George for his help when I got stuck and his patience when I had to edit for hours at a time. I love you, HB!

QUEEN BITCH OF THE CALLOWWOOD PACK

SIOBHAN MUIR

Copyright © 2012

Waking up Hungry

Icy crystalline water on the tip of her tongue…

The scream of a dying raccoon with her jaws locked in its throat…

The adrenaline rush of blood through her veins as the stag ahead of her bolts…

The narcotic caress of the Lady Moon’s silver light…

Julianna Morris woke up sitting on her own front step, scratched, bruised, and tired. She blinked a few times, trying to bring her mind, and her eyes, into focus.
Why is everything fuzzy?
She rubbed one hand over her face. No glasses.
That’s
why her eyes couldn’t focus.

Groaning, she straightened and dragged herself to her feet. Twigs and bits of leaf litter cascaded around her as she shook her head.

A mad dash through the alpine underbrush after an arrogant rock squirrel…

Julianna froze and stared sightlessly out at the Fresno suburbs, trying to chase down hazy recollections of hunting in the woods among the scents of pine and other animals. Were these memories real or just a dream? She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and willed the images clearer, but they faded as her mind awakened to the new day.

Pale morning sunlight pushed weakly through the overcast, and Julianna shook herself, ridding her mind of the foreign sensations. Something wasn’t right, but standing on her front landing balcony, staring into space, wouldn’t clear things up. She rolled her shoulders back and had reached for the doorknob when she noticed her bulging mailbox beside the door.
Didn’t I already get the mail today? Wait, what day is it?

She’d just pulled out the thick bundle of envelopes when her neighbor, Leslie Dillard, stepped out his apartment door onto the landing.

“Damn, what the hell happened to you?”

How do I tell him I don’t know?

“Uh,” she began eloquently.

“You look dog-tired, and what did you do to your clothes?” Leslie shook his head.

“Survival training,” she blurted at last. “I’m working up to an Iron Man competition of backpacking in the Sierra Nevada in a couple of months. It requires the contestants to trek across large distances, using only what they’re wearing and what they can find along the way.”

That sounded plausible, right?

“Huh, seems like a terrible waste of good clothes, if you ask me.” He nodded to her tattered jeans. “I don’t think they’re salvageable, darlin’.”

“Yeah, probably not.” Julianna glanced down at the letters in her hands. Did one of them say State of California? “You headed to work this early?”

“It’s almost eight on a Tuesday morning. I’m actually late.” He laughed, shaking his head again.

“Well, don’t let me keep you.” She dug her keys out of her pocket and unlocked her door, pushing it open. “Have a good day.”

“Take care of yourself, darlin’. Maybe a long shower and a bottle of Chardonnay. That’ll make everything better,” Leslie called as she closed the door behind her.

I don’t think Chardonnay will be strong enough.

Dropping her keys on the kitchen counter, Julianna took the mail to her table and slumped into a chair. Her stomach growled, but she ignored it when her eyes focused on the top envelope. The return address bore the official stamp from the State of California.

Could it be?

She tore it open and scanned the letter inside, her focus sharpening as the words arrowed into her mind. Her divorce from Terence Simmons had been granted and processed. She was a free woman.

Julianna waited for the overwhelming joy and vindication to flood through her, but all she felt was relief.
Thank God it’s done
. Anger and grief still swirled through her, but they were faded now, pale shadows of their earlier brilliance. She’d lost eight years to a philandering, manipulative, chauvinistic womanizer whose only interest in her had been her ability to further his career. She’d helped him get tenure at UC Fresno in the English Department, and he’d repaid her by sleeping his way through the female professors and half the female students.

Memories rose unbidden, but not of those years with her erstwhile husband.

Digging in the soil after a mole. The rich scent of loam mingling with the musky fear of the little insectivore.

“What the hell is wrong with me?”

Dizziness mixed with fear, and she leaned her head into her hands, trying to get a grip on herself. Paper crackled, and she found her face pressed against the mail on the tabletop. Everything smelled of paper pulp and industrial glue, with a side of woodland debris.

Get a grip! Focus! I have to go to work.

She raised her head and scanned the pale rectangles strewn over the surface. Power bill, gas bill, another 20-percent-off coupon from Bed Bath & Beyond. Julianna snorted with tired amusement. She could probably get 600 percent off with all the coupons she’d received from them. But her amusement evaporated at the sight of her mother’s handwriting on a pale cream envelope.

Oh God…Dad…

Her hands shook as she tore the flap and pulled the letter out. It was only a note about the Easter parade scheduled in her hometown of Callowwood, but it was what her mother didn’t say that had her hands trembling. Her parents had always participated in the holiday parades, her mother baking goodies and her father coordinating the floats. This year they’d just be spectators. Grief hit Julianna in a fresh wave, and tears leaked out of her eyes, leaving dirty streaks down her face.

Her father had been diagnosed with aggressive lung cancer a year before and her mother’s calls and emails had kept her abreast of his condition all through Julianna’s divorce. They’d tried to fight the cancer with chemotherapy and radiation treatments, but they found the cancer had metastasized into his bones at his last checkup.

“Shit,” she whispered as she dropped her head to the tabletop. More debris rained out of her hair. “Dammit!”