Werewolf in Alaska: A Wild About You Novel

Werewolf in Alaska: A Wild About You Novel by VickiLewis Thompson Page A

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Authors: VickiLewis Thompson
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arrangement.
    Jake’s cabin didn’t look all that different from this, except his cushions were plain green instead of plaid, and slightly newer. Instead of a storm door leading to his deck, he had a slider so he could manipulate it as a wolf. His fireplace was quite similar to hers, even down to the slate hearth.
    Glancing at the mantel, he noticed the driftwood wolf. It was a shade lighter than it had been while he owned it, which meant she’d cleaned and oiled the wood. As he gazed at it, he had the oddest feeling of shared custody. A link had been forged between them the day he’d bought the carving, almost as if he’d adopted her child.
    But he’d given up all rights to it, and that was for the best. Turning away from the driftwood wolf, he continued his survey of Rachel’s cabin. Like many floor plans in this part of the country, no division existed between the living room and the dining area. The round oak table and four chairs at the other end of the space seemed to be the same vintage as the sofa and chairs. The entire area was tidy and unassuming.
    Jake liked knowing that despite her newfound wealth, Rachel hadn’t changed the character of her grandfather’s cabin. He’d made the same decision about his, which was of a similar age. Although he could afford every luxury imaginable, he’d kept his place simple, the way it had been when he’d bought it.
    Well, maybe not quite. He’d added a couple of things, like a towel warmer in the bathroom and the finest king-sized mattress money could buy. He was a big guy and he appreciated a firm bed. Rachel’s bed also looked new, come to think of it. He doubted Ike would have splurged on a king.
    As he’d suspected all along, he and Rachel were very much alike, except for one significant detail—he was a werewolf and she was not. Thinking of that made him wonder if he could risk shifting while she was asleep. He could really speed the healing process that way.
    Casting a glance toward the bedroom, he decided to move into the kitchen. It had a pocket door, and he nudged it closed. Shifting was risky, but his wounds hurt like hell and he needed relief.
    With the door closed, the kitchen became darker than the rest of the house. Its only window was shaded by a large pine, and the lack of light made Jake feel relatively safe. Shifting was noiseless. With luck she’d sleep right through it.
    Once he shifted, he’d be able to open either the front or back door and leave, but he’d rather not have her speculate about how he’d been able to do such a thing. No point in making her any more curious than she already was. Besides, he’d be naked. Not the best way to travel through the woods. So he’d shift to human form, shift back, and return to her bedroom as a wolf.
    Lying on the linoleum floor on his uninjured side, he focused all his energy on his transformation. The glow from his shift began to flicker in the dim light. He was seconds into the process, caught halfway between man and wolf, when his concentration was shattered by the sound of Rachel’s voice.
    “Whoever’s in my kitchen, be warned. I have a killer wolf on the premises and he’ll rip your throat out without a second thought.”
    Jake couldn’t afford the luxury of panic, or even time to appreciate the irony of being threatened by his own bad self. Refocusing quickly, he poured all his energy into shifting into wolf form before she opened that kitchen door.

Chapter 4
    Baseball bat raised and heart pounding, Rachel walked slowly through the dining area toward the kitchen. The soft rumble of the pocket door had roused her, but she’d had to lie there for a moment before she’d identified the sound.
    She’d tried to dismiss it as distant thunder. But the sound had come from inside the house, not outside. Taking her baseball bat, which she kept leaning against the back wall of her closet, she’d left her bedroom. Sure enough, the pocket door was closed. And she hadn’t closed it.
    Mr. Wolf,

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