Authors: Jordan Summers
This was their time. The time when they were the most comfortable. The time when the real monsters came out.
Izzy hurried along the uneven sidewalks. She could still hear music coming from Bourbon Street. The jumble of sounds and collision of smells should’ve comforted her, but Izzy knew she was alone.
She tripped over a raised concrete slab. Her hands clasped the wrought iron fence that ran along the front of one of the old gentrified homes and kept her from falling. The metal felt good in her hand. It was cool. It was hard. It was real—as real as the heavy footsteps coming up fast behind her. Izzy pushed away from the fence and hurried on.
Her heart was pounding so hard she could barely hear herself think. Izzy turned to get a look at who was approaching and collided with a wall. It wasn’t until she turned her head that she realized it wasn’t a wall. It was a man’s hard chest.
Strong hands grasped her arms whether to keep her from falling or prevent her from leaving she didn’t know. Izzy looked up. Her gaze collided with a pair of mercury colored eyes and she shivered, despite his handsome face.
Her body went from hot to cold to hot again. Staring in his eyes was like staring into the face of the Arctic. His white blond hair and stern expression was as unforgiving as the harsh tundra.
As Izzy watched, the image of a white wolf appeared over his human features. She felt the blood drain from her cheeks. “Let me go,” she said.
He didn’t release her. Instead, the man’s grip tightened. “You’re being hunted,” he said.
She knew that. Izzy had known that for days. The odd part was that he announced it like he wasn’t the one hunting her.
The man was the biggest monster she’d ever seen. He seemed unnaturally large for a werewolf and that was saying something, since they tended to be massive.
“Let me go or I’m going to scream,” Izzy said.
“This is the French Quarter,” he said. “No one will notice.” His sensual lips tilted into a smirk.
Izzy wanted to knock that smirk right off his face.
As if reading her mind, his smile vanished. “If you don’t come with me, you’re going to die.”
Despite the ominous and rather clichéd warning, Isabel had no intention of going anywhere with him. He was one of them. She’d seen his true form. She would be safer locked in a cage with a half-starved polar bear. Everything about this man screamed that he was dangerous.
A trashcan lid banged at the end of the street. They both turned to see what had caused the noise. Izzy took his momentary distraction as a chance to get away. She twisted out of his hold and took off running.
# # #
Jordan Summers has thirty-one published books to her credit. She’s a member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, The Horror Writer’s Association, International Thriller Writers, and Novelist Inc.
Connect with her online:
Join the Endless Summers Newsletter to find out about upcoming releases and author signings.