Because the road to . . .
Clever, cool and preternaturally lethal, Max Savoie is leader of a secretive shape-shifter clan, heir to a mobster’s legacy, and the love of New Orleans’ top cop . . . but he can’t remember any of them. The only way to recover his past, and his rightful place in the arms of the woman who risked all to save him, is to surrender to a mysterious visitor who could use him as a weapon against all he’d loved.
Happily-Ever-After . . .
After rescuing her mate from his ruthless captors in the North, hard-hitting Detective Charlotte Caissie is now painfully vulnerable—a stranger in his eyes . . . and in his bed. The key to his memories is locked in a tortuous past. To reclaim the strength of their passionate bond, Max must learn to trust her enough to face that darkness at her side before the threat it hides exposes the secret Cee Cee carries.
Is never smooth.
When an investigation into grisly deaths in an underground Shifter fight club points to more than just dangerous clan rivalries, Cee Cee enlists Max’s help to find a traitor in their midst while there’s still time to turn a deadly invading tide. But the cost of saving their treasured future may mean sacrificing his past. Especially when the enemy they pursue . . . might be Max, himself.
The bare wall of windows let in the lights of the city against an ink-black sky, silhouetting a solitary figure. Her throat clutched as she recalled the first time she’d seen him there when the building was still a metal skeleton, toeing the edge of the beam, his dark coat billowing behind him like the wings of a fallen angel. His pose was no less dramatic now, sleek, dark and solitary as he stared out into the night.
Cee Cee bit down on her initial impulse to demand where he’d been, knowing her panic would shine through. No pressure. Don’t push. Give him space. Her restraint was rewarded by the quiet murmur of his voice.
“I didn’t mean to wake you. Giles and I were going through the books at LEI, and time got away from us. There’s so much I need to learn if I’m to maintain the masquerade of knowing who I am. I apologize if you were worried.”
He’d been with Giles at Legere Enterprises International tending his inherited ill-gotten and now nearly legal gains. All anxieties addressed and answered. She relaxed.
She could tell by his hesitation that there was more he wanted to say, so she remained silent and let him work up to it. Still, his question took her by surprise.
“What was that this morning?”
“I had a very busy morning. Be more specific.”
Specific as a heart attack. No use tiptoeing around it.
“We’ve had a sort of psychic connection since we bonded.” Thankfully, he didn’t ask her to explain thatprocess. “We can get inside each other’s heads.”
He had yet to look toward her. She didn’t need a psychic bond to feel him locking down tight to prevent her unauthorized entry.
“How does it work?” How can I stop it? That’s what he really wanted to know.
“I’m not sure. We share thoughts, feelings, dreams.”
“All the time?” Oh, such wariness in that simple question. So Max.
“No. Of course not. It’s not something we’ve explored. It happens rarely, in times of stress or when we . . .”
Have sex. That dropped between them like a ticking bomb.
“Don’t worry,” she concluded, tone brittle. “I knock before I come in, and wait for permission.”
He turned slowly to face her.
The past months of anxiety and fear fell away as she stared at him, heart seizing. Here was the Max Savoie she’d fallen helplessly in love with against all her best intentions. Impeccably dressed, the lines of a designer suit skimming his long, lean and lethal frame, the toes of his athletic shoes peeping from beneath tailored slacks in sassy juxtaposition.
Darkness and shadow carved out features too rough and bold to be handsome, yet too compelling to be ignored. Unblinking eyes, as pale and green as the still waters of the bayou, shone with an eerie intensity from beneath an uncompromising line of heavy brows and unruly black hair nearly tamed by a stylishly short cut. Faint stubble shaded the set of his rugged jaw, lending a harshly dangerous air to his outward sophistication.
He was thuggishly elegant, graceful yet seething with raw power, aloof and still undeniably fascinating. Legere’s enigmatic enforcer turned influential businessman and philanthropist. Traumatized orphan child who’d polarized a group of frightened misfits into a tight community family. Everything she’d ever wanted.
She’d worried over him, missed him, needed him but until this moment, when the unexpected mention of sex reared its wicked head, Cee Cee hadn’t realized just how long she’d gone without the physical side of their relationship. Seeing him standing there fit and fine, wreathed in stillness and mystery, so tempting, so inviting, a fever hot dream personified, her body burned until only a fire extinguisher could cool her intention of coaxing him back into an intimate bed.
Until he spoke.
“How is this possible, you being a human?”
It was her turn to hold back behind silence.
His eyes narrowed into long cautious slits. “What are you, Detective? What makes you different?” What makes you dangerous to me? was tacitly implied.
“I’m like you. I’m more.”
The By Moonlight Series
About Nancy GideonWebsite | Blog | Goodreads By Moonlight Group Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Google+ | Pinterest
Nancy Gideon is the author of over 55 novels ranging from Regencies, historicals and contemporary suspense to dark paranormal romance, with a couple of horror screenplays thrown into the mix. When not at the keyboard or working full time as a legal assistant in Southwest Michigan, she can be found feeding her addictions for Netflix and all things fur, feather and fin, enjoying Grammy time (usually watching The Avengers), and meeting new friends and readers through her GoodReads “Nancy Gideon by Moonlight” group. Her books can also be found under the pen names Dana Ransom, Rosalyn West and Lauren Giddings.