It's a new release for my friend Ranae Rose!!! I love her Half Moon Shifters series and now we get to meet a new shifter...a sexy, honey-loving bear! Yum!! I've already read this one and loved it. !!
You can find this gem on most e-book retailers including Amazon.
Love at first sight? Not exactly. Things work a little differently for wolf shifters, though hunky park ranger Ronnie is a dream to look at, especially when he’s in uniform. Violet’s senses have been telling her he’s the one since the first time she caught a hint of his scent. Could she really be destined to be the mate of a bear shifter? Their differences are undeniable, but that hasn’t stopped her from wondering what it would be like to live happily ever after with the drop-dead sexy ranger who also serves as war chief of the Great Smoky Mountains’ resident bear shifter tribe. But bears don’t detect their mates by scent – their methods are scintillatingly personal. Tension simmers, and one thing will either make or break both of their hopes for the future – a taste of honey.
Ranae is also giving away $10 Amazon gift card to someone who comments. :-)
A Taste of Honey - Excerpt
His heart kept time, marking each passing second with ferocious beats as he guided his truck off the road and into his driveway. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, making them tingle and causing his throat to ache as he exited the cab and firmly closed its door. Maybe it was nothing – it was probably nothing – but it was his job to act as if it might be something and past experience had primed him for this moment, for any moment when it seemed danger might be threatening his tribe.
Or his mate. He was too intent on his current mission to eschew the thought completely. Violet might not be his mate, but clearly his heart was convinced otherwise. Each heavy beat urged him to find her, to protect her and the longed-for possibility that she embodied. It was impossible to guard his heart or his hopes when he feared for her safety. Twisting the knob and walking through the unlocked front door, he called her name.
He strode quickly into the cabin and checked every room, even his bedroom. It was easy to imagine her there, but she was nowhere to be found. Upon returning to the kitchen, he found a full pot of coffee waiting, untouched. A quick glance afforded him a glimpse of the worm container, still tucked behind the coffeemaker. Had he really been worried about it? If Violet felt anything like what he felt for her – if they were really meant to be mated – it would take a lot more than a container of earthworms to drive her away.
He had to find her. The backdoor beckoned. He opened it, imagining her small hand closing around the knob after he’d left. She must have gone for a walk, like she’d mentioned. Why had he left her alone? He should’ve taken her along for the ride to the station, even if it would’ve meant her having to suffer through a meeting with Hargrove.
Remaining a man was out of the question. He needed to be fast, strong and able to rely on his senses when they were at their best. Without sparing a thought for his clothing, he shifted. His flannel, t-shirt and jeans fluttered to the ground like soft confetti as he assumed his bear form. This way, he could find her quickly and defend her if necessary.
It probably wouldn’t be necessary – a fact he kept reminding himself of as he entered the red, brown and gold shadowland of the forest and charged through, his heavy paws crushing small branches underfoot and compressing the dense carpet of fallen leaves that had accumulated over the past several months. He inhaled deeply as he ran, scenting the air for any trace of Violet. He’d grown accustomed to her clean, sweet fragrance and his heart leapt when it drifted to him on a breeze.
He was huge, but his bulk didn’t slow him down. He wasn’t slow in his human form either, but never would’ve been able to race through the forest this way, dodging only the largest of obstacles and flattening all others in his path. Was this what it felt like to race to protect one’s mate? He’d done a lot of defending in the past but the urgency had never felt quite this potent, not even when he’d helped Jack and the rest of the Half Moon pack rescue Mandy when she’d been kidnapped.
Each breath seared his lungs as he flattened saplings and leapt over boulders. If there really was a danger to bears lurking in the mountains, he was a sizeable, noisy target in his current form, but it didn’t matter. He felt buoyed by the importance of his mission, invincible because he had to be in order to protect Violet.
When he found her, he almost trampled her. Stretched flat on a rock that hung over his favorite fishing stream, he didn’t see her until he was almost on top of her. He skidded to a violent halt, his claws tearing up the earth and sending it flying along with a spray of pebbles and colorful, papery leaves.
Violet’s eyes went wide and she curled in on herself, protecting her vital organs by instinct as she threw up a hand in protest and toppled over the edge of the rock, her mouth open in a silent scream.
A sound of regret tore its way out of Ronnie’s chest as he lunged forward, too late to help. By the time he landed on the edge of the rock, he was a man again and gripped its edge with an ink-stained hand as he threw his other arm out into open space, reaching for her. “Violet!”
A wolf stared up at him from the stream, chocolate brown and shoulder-deep in running water. Even in her lupine form, her blue eyes were clearly recognizable and there was no mistaking the sweater that clung to her body, torn along most of its seams.
For a moment, he simply stared, eyes locked with hers. She was a beautiful wolf but he couldn’t take her hand and lift her out of the water in this form.
“Change,” he said, speaking loudly enough that his voice rumbled clearly over the sound of the stream. “I’ll lift you out.”
She glanced first at the rocky little overhang he was stretched across, then at the steep, muddy bank on the other side of the stream. Apparently, he was the most appealing option. In the blink of an eye, she became a woman again.
When she extended a hand, reaching for him, he took it and hoisted her up onto the rock. She was light as a feather, even in her dripping clothes – or what was left of them, anyway.
Her sweater was loose enough that it hadn’t been completely destroyed during her transformation, but it had torn along most of its seams and now clung to her – just barely – displaying generous views of milky flesh and what looked like the tattered remains of a camisole. Her jeans had fared even worse and floated down the stream in a cluster of dark-blue denim ribbons as she gasped and looked up at him with wide, blue eyes.
Until that moment, he hadn’t spared a thought for his nudity.
Water glistened and fell from her lips in tiny drops as their gazes locked and he was suddenly aware of being naked in a way he’d never been before. It wasn’t just a state of being or simple lack of clothing; it was a temptation, a glorious absence of physical barriers between himself and her. The deep ache of desperate desire that had been driving his racing heart and surging through his veins, urging him to find her, finally made its way to his cock. He reached out and laid his hands on her shoulders, gripping her slender arms as a shiver wracked them. He was done waiting – he had to know, now, whether she really was the one.
He pressed his mouth to hers, too eager to hold back. Her lips were soft and warm beneath the superficial chill her submersion had left them with and she smelled as crisp and clean as a mountain spring, the floral notes of her shampoo sweet highlights in her scent. As she parted her lips, his heart surged ahead and he pressed his tongue inside, past her teeth, in search of one thing – a taste of honey. Just a taste of honey, and she would be his forever.
Author bio: Ranae Rose is the bestselling author of over a dozen
paranormal, historical and contemporary romances, all of them delightfully
steamy. She lives on the US East Coast with her family, dogs and horses
and spends most of her time letting her very active imagination run wild,
penning her next story. When she's not writing, she can usually be found
in the saddle or behind a good book with a cup of tea.