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Showing posts with label Urban Wolf Series. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Urban Wolf Series. Show all posts

Monday, 20 February 2017

NEW from Naomi Clark @naomi_jay In Cold Blood [Urban Wolf Book 6] #lesfic #PNR

Hi there! Thanks for having me today and letting me share a bit about my new release, IN COLD BLOOD. This is a spin-off from my Urban Wolf series, set in the same world but featuring new characters. My goal with every entry in the Urban Wolf series is to open the world up a little bit more. SILVER KISS gives us a good, solid starting point with werewolves. BLOOD HUNT introduces vampires. PHANTON FEARS teases the idea of ghosts, and COLD NIGHT MOON gives us fae creatures (or one, at any rate). With IN COLD BLOOD, my idea was that, well, someone had to be noticing all these weird and wonderful creepy beasties. And someone would be keeping notes...

This will tie directly into the plot of the next Urban Wolf book, which will take us back to Ayla and Shannon. The circle of life, etc.

IN COLD BLOOD is the first of a planned trilogy about Phoebe, Aisling, and the Luporum. I already have book 2 mostly planned out (in my head, anyway), but my aim is write that Ayla and Shannon book first. So if you enjoy IN COLD BLOOD, rest assured that there'll be more from my socially awkward werewolves in love - and the Urban Wolf series in general! - in the future :) Happy reading!

You can find the complete Urban Wolf series, in reading order, at my blog here.


Phoebe Fairley wanted to be a librarian. Somehow, she’s become a vampire hunter. Women are dying across the country and the police are baffled. Phoebe’s just supposed to be gathering information on the deaths, but as the body count mounts, she can’t help but break the rules and get involved. She knows what the killer is—and catching and containing it is vital. If she can persuade the police to believe her, and keep her secretive bosses happy, she stands a chance of capturing a very real, very deadly vampire. Not bad for a werewolf who can’t shapeshift.

Aisling is happy living as a feral wolf. She’s got no time for human affairs, until a mysterious creature attacks her and leaves her in human hands. Now, if she wants her life back, she’ll have to join Phoebe’s hunt. There are just a couple of snags. One, she hates humans. And two, she’s falling hard for Phoebe. With a monster to catch and her own past to protect, will Aisling trust her head or her heart? 


Excerpt

The scene inside the barn was surreal. Two big floodlights overhead lit the barn in glaring white. Half the huge space was taken up with sheep, penned off from the drama but still hysterically bleating and milling together. A grizzled man in a tattered dressing gown and Wellington boots – surely the farmer – leaned into the pen, talking non-stop to the frightened animals. Bales of hay were piled high around the rest of the barn, looking to Phoebe like they might come toppling down any second. They formed a rough arena for the main drama. Two more men held down a naked woman. She thrashed in their grip, tossing her matted red hair and snarling with a viciousness that made Phoebe’s wolf cower. This was their victim, this mad, wild thing?

Spalding hurried over to the farmer and Gibbs ran to the paramedics. They had to be wolves, from the strength they were displaying, but the woman was making them work to keep her still. Phoebe hesitated before following Gibbs – at a distance. Observe, Spalding had said. That was fine. Observing was all she was meant to do. The question was, what exactly was she seeing? The victim of a vampire attack or a feral wolf gone mad? She couldn’t help but lean towards the latter. Perhaps the woman thought the sheep would be easy pickings, but something had gone wrong. Maybe she’d been startled by the farmer or a guard dog. Phoebe had noticed a kennel outside the barn, although there was no sign of a dog now.

As she got closer, she saw the woman’s hands and feet were caked in mud, and there were thin red scratches all over her pale skin. Dried blood on her chest, too, although her endless thrashing made it hard to see where the original wound was. She stopped a few feet away, watching as Gibbs crouched down before the woman and – daringly, Phoebe thought – gripped her chin firmly. She was surprised he didn’t get his fingers bitten off.

The woman growled but couldn’t pull free of Gibbs’ hold. He growled right back, with a force and venom that made Phoebe quake. Did they teach that in training?

For a minute, the pair seemed locked in battle, the woman struggling against all three men in vain while she snarled at Gibbs. He didn’t flinch or loosen his grip, and kept his own domineering growl rumbling on, rising in pitch. The sheep grew more frantic and both the farmer and Spalding yelled at them with a mixture of anger and desperation. Phoebe felt battered, all the noise and tumultuous emotion like an assault. She wanted to run. She forced herself to stay, watching as Gibbs tried to inflict his will on the woman.

As much as pop culture got muddled with myth, some things were always true, just as much for wolves as humans. Some people were simply more dominant than others. Gibbs’ laid-back, clownish persona was all gone now as he pinned the woman down with both his body and his eyes. Phoebe would have caved already, if she’d even had it in her to resist. The woman, whatever her mental state might be, was not so easily dominated. But after what felt like an age, she slumped, stopped fighting, and went still.



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About the Author

Naomi likes writing, perfume, fancy tea, and unfathomable monsters from the dark spaces between the stars, not necessarily in that order. She has been writing stories ever since she learned how to write, but is still trying to master the art of biography writing. When she's not dealing with werewolves, demons, or sea monsters, she's hanging out with her cat and probably watching a documentary about Bigfoot. If the cat isn't available, she's with her fiancé watching cookery shows and silently plotting her next book.


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Twitter @naomi_jay

Friday, 20 November 2015

New Release - Cold Night Moon [Urban Wolf 5] by Naomi Clark @naomi_jay #lesbian #PNR

Thanks for having me here on your blog today! I'm really excited to be sharing my latest release, COLD NIGHT MOON - book five in my Urban Wolf Series. This is a series that's really so close to my heart for a lot of reasons, and it's great to be back in Ayla and Shannon's world. I've been with these characters for six years now, and I like to think that each installment, whether it's a short story like this or a full-length novel, has expanded the world and see my werewolf ladies grow. In COLD NIGHT MOON, I get to play with some British folklore (always fun!) and give Ayla and Shannon a romantic break in the woods...well, a sort of romantic break, anyway. I hope you'll love it!

BLURB:

After a difficult year, Ayla Hammond wants to give her girlfriend Shannon a dream Christmas. A cozy, romantic cabin in the woods seems like the perfect way to put their troubles behind them and start the New Year right. And at first, everything is going according to Ayla's plan...until night falls.

There's something in the woods. And it's after Shannon.



Excerpt:

“We’re going home,” I said, hoping my voice didn’t sound as shaky as I thought it did.
“No! Can’t you hear her! It’s so beautiful, Ayla, I have to see… I have to find her…” She slapped uselessly at my arms.
I had to change position. I couldn’t really see past her head and if she started kicking, she could take out my knees with those heavy hiking boots. But I didn’t want to let her go to try and put her in a better hold. With a groan, I sort of rolled her in my arms so we were face to face. Her expression was one of angry hunger, nothing like the Shannon I knew. She slapped me, her gloves stinging my cheek.
“Let me go!”
I growled and hauled her over my shoulder. She kneed me in the stomach and pummeled my back, shouting now.
“Put me down! I have to see her!”
"There's nobody there!" I cried, frustration boiling over into anger of my own. 
"Please, Shannon—"
She kneed me again, knocking the breathe from me, and I stumbled. Her weight overbalanced me, pitching us both into the snow, with Shannon landing on top of me. While I wheezed for air, she tried to scramble off me, but I grabbed her wrists and clung on. The sheer panic on her face scared me. It was the intense, mindless panic of an animal fleeing a wildfire, a human watching a friend die. You couldn't reason with that, couldn't snap someone out of it.
She twisted and thrashed, trying to free herself, while snow soaked through my jeans and slid into my boots, sending chills through me. I was fighting the elements as well as Shannon, and whilst I could outfight Shannon if I wanted, I couldn't hold off the cold forever.

       I gritted my teeth. "I'm so sorry," I said, and then I headbutted her.

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About the Author

Naomi likes writing, perfume, fancy tea, and unfathomable monsters from the dark spaces between the stars, not necessarily in that order. She has been writing stories ever since she learned how to write, but is still trying to master the art of biography writing. When she's not dealing with werewolves, demons, or sea monsters, she's hanging out with her cat and probably watching a documentary about Bigfoot. If the cat isn't available, she's with her fiancé watching cookery shows and silently plotting her next book.

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