bonnie vanak

Touched by Moonlight

Shifters Wild & Free Reverse Harem 2

bonnie vanak's Touched by Moonlight

Available May 31, 2019 on Kindle Unlimited!

A powerful and independent Fae princess on the run from her enemies finds erotic passion with three sexy, mysterious biker werewolves who want to claim her in their beds while keeping her safe.

Pretending to be human, Princess Sienna McClair is hiding from those who want to use her magick to create windstorms, fire and floods. Trust doesn't come easily to this fiery Fae, whose family betrayed her when she came into her powers. But Grayson Smith, alpha werewolf of a ragtag pack of misfits, will do anything to claim Sienna. For Grayson knows she is the perfect mate for himself and his betas. Capitulating to their erotic demands, Sienna experiences a freedom of passion and pleasure she's never felt before.

Life isn't easy when you're different from everyone else. Grayson and his betas are determined to keep her with their pack, for this powerful alpha also hides a secret—he needs Sienna more than she realizes.

In the mountains of Colorado, Sienna will make a last stand against those who want to destroy her. Can she trust Grayson and his wolves as allies to keep her safe? Or are they as dangerous as the enemy who wants her magick?

Read on for a sneak preview of the next book in my Shifters Wild & Free Reverse Harem series - TOUCHED BY MOONLIGHT.

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(Copyright 2019 by Bonnie Vanak)

Grayson was the finest imported whisky, burning as it slid down your throat. Curly black hair was cut short. He stood well over six feet and at first glance, looked like a nice enough guy. His chiseled face hinted of aristocratic breeding, but it, as was the case with many adult shifters, it was difficult to determine his age. He could have been thirty, or two hundred.

A little muscled beneath the tan suede jacket he wore over a flannel green shirt. Nice ass covered by brown cords that hugged thighs hinting of power.

One glance at those lean hips and firm ass and a woman envisioned him thrusting into you deep, gripping that fine derriere as he rode you hard and fast.

With the smooth contours and planes of his face, he was good-looking enough to be a model on a magazine. Those lips were kissable, until you realized they seldom cracked into a smile.

But the aquamarine blue eyes told the whole story. The shifter crackled with quiet power, glowed with it. Sexual power that had the few ladies in the bar humming with desire… alpha power that had the males giving him a healthy distance.

There was something about Grayson and the shadows dancing behind those eyes warning everyone to stay away. Ever since meeting him here in the club, I wondered if he was the wolf shifter who dreamwalked with me. Those memories were faint and cloudy now, and the possibility Grayson being that same werewolf was as likely as finding a four-leaf clover in a meadow.

My hands tingled. I knew if I removed the gloves, they would glow red with the passion of arousal, not the faint pink Dante had caused.

At his side were his two ever-present betas, who scanned the room in silence as if assessing threats. Stephan Aragon was cute, slimmer and shorter, with a wiry toughness, ordinary straight brown hair cut short and sensitive brown eyes. He wore hiking boots, jeans, a denim jacket and a black T-shirt with a Punisher logo on it. The logo made me smile. Stephan loved that movie. He told me last week that he admired the Frank Castle's toughness and beneath it, his fierce love for family.

"That's pack life, Sienna," Stephan had said. "Wolves are the same. We fight to protect our own."

Stephan was much younger, seemed more human and friendlier than most shifters I'd met here. He was into movies and video games, and bragged about his motorcycle. Yet beneath the cheerful attitude lurked the heart of a wolf. People used to treat him like a friendly puppy, or even bait him into fights, which he good-naturedly refused. Everyone took him for granted until the day he beat up a man who'd threatened one of the strippers. The man laughed when Stephan told him to knock it off.

Stephan did not laugh. The methodical, brutal pounding he delivered left the offender in a bloody pulp.

No one tangled with him after that.

Nicolas Prentice was the only one of the trio who didn't seem to like me. Quieter but wilder, as if the wolf inside him clawed constantly to get out. He was muscled and resembled a biker on a mean streak, with a black leather jacket, white distressed T-shirt, faded jeans and biker boots that could kick someone's ass across the room. Nicolas had patrician features and large dark chocolate eyes, but a wicked scar marching down his left cheek indicated he'd tangled with someone fiercer. The tat on his neck of a wolf howling at the moon was a clear indication where his loyalty resided.

Nicolas was close-mouthed, drank little and had an edginess about him. He was polite, respectful, but seldom talked with me. He always seemed protective of Stephan, almost like an older brother.

All three were dangerous, and other shifters in the room gave them a wide berth. Even that braggart Nathan picked up his beer and headed for a table far away.

The two betas headed for a table in the room's center. It was their usual position, one with an eye on the door and one with an eye on the back. Their body language seemed relaxed, but sharp eyes could tell they were vigilant.

Boot heels clicked as Grayson crossed the wood floor. Everyone in the bar watched him as one would watch a gunslinger I saw once in an old western movie. The leather stool squeaked as he slid onto the seat vacated by the Fae. His blue gaze held mine.

"Hello Sienna." That voice, deep and sensual, could stroke a woman into orgasm simply by reciting directions for hooking up cable television.

He sniffed the air and frowned. "I smell Fae."

My blood ran cold. "Fee, Fi, Fo, Fae. I smell something and wish it'd go away."

Grayson did not grin back. He slid off the stool. "A woodland Fae was here."

I nodded. "Cass threw him out for practicing magick."

"How long ago?"

I shrugged. "He left about fifteen minutes ago."

"Say anything?" The alpha's frown creased his forehead. "Why would a Fae be here in a strip club occupied by shifters?"

"I don't know. Maybe he's tired of watching his own kind get naked."

All these questions made me uneasy. I needed to divert his attention. "Want a drink?"

"Whisky, straight up. The house brand."

"Living dangerously." I gave him a generous shot of Dante's finest. "Usually you stick with beer."

He poured the glass over the bar seat. "Towel please."

I watched him wipe down the seat with the paper towels I'd handed him, chuck them into a garbage can behind the bar, and then resume his seat. Though I agreed with him, inside I winced. Grayson was sexy and the fact he obviously disliked Fae made my chest hollow.

"Another whiskey, please. Make it your finest."

After he received his shot, he sipped, nodding in appreciation. "Tonight's not a night for beer. I'm too restless."

Interesting. In the weeks I'd gotten to know him, the alpha had never been anything but cool and controlled.

"Why? Got a hot date?" I felt a pinch of jealousy.

"No. I'm solo tonight."

"I could change that."

Words poured out of my mouth before I could bite my tongue. Flirting with Grayson? He was a tough alpha, and I always treated him with slight distance and lots of respect, not this come-on attitude.

He leaned forward, mouth wet with whiskey. "Oh, you'd be hot, Sienna. But one night would not quench… my thirst. You're a lass a male keeps in his bed for a long time, and does his damnest to ensure she never wants to go elsewhere."

"And you think you're the male who could do that?" I sniffed, even as his words aroused me. "I've walked away from other guys' beds before."

"If you could walk after being in mine." Grayson gave a slow, meaningful smile.

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