Love sneaks in like a thief in the night.
Danny’s parents raised him to believe his wolf was a curse. He’s part of the wealthy and powerful Connoll Pack, but only nominally. He abandoned that world to volunteer with supernatural kids, and he isn’t looking for a mate….
They could be amazing together, but they have to get past a few obstacles—especially since someone close to Danny might be involved in the thefts Max is investigating.
Buy links: Dreamspinner | Amazon
Cat gives this one 4 Meows...
This is the first book in a spin-off of Camp H.O.W.L You do not have had to read that series to enjoy this. I am very happy to see this spin-off as the last book had hinted at one. I have been waiting and was not disappointed. I loved Danny, but how can you not love someone that gives up wealth to help kids dealing with difficulties. I also loved the supernatural aspect and not just Weres.
I liked Max too. This is an Insta-love, mate-bond type story but this is a Dreamspun Beyond book and it is supposed to be tropetastic and it is. I felt that the instant-bond was handled quite well and wasn't too instant.
Max and Danny did try to make their relationship slow but the bond kept pulling at them and I felt that was more a natural thing.
Not only are the characters good, but the story-line is also as well. You have family drama, lots of action and some danger.
If you like Insta-love, Mate-bonds, Shifters, Weres, supernatural characters, and an allover good romance you will like this one!
Excerpt...
DANNY HURRIED along the sidewalk, hugging his satchel close to his body to keep it dry. The torrential rain from earlier had eased, but he didn’t want to take any chances with the remaining drizzle. It also made his satchel harder to steal, which was the real bonus.
He didn’t live in the best of neighborhoods, but normally it didn’t bother him. Most of the time he didn’t have much to steal, but today he had a pair of iPads in his bag that probably cost more than the majority of the beater cars parked along the curb on his walk home.
He’d sold the Rolex his parents had given him for his high school graduation to buy these. Months of nonstop fundraising had paid for the rest of the bounty that was safely locked up in his apartment, but foster services had referred two more teens to the Janus Foundation last week, and he didn’t want to leave them out of his gift-giving extravaganza.
His kids often came to their foster families with nothing, and Danny did whatever he could to ease their transitions and give them what they needed to succeed. This year he’d wanted to do something extra. Something special and completely impractical. The kids deserved a surprise, and he had a whopper planned for them.
Danny had grown up in a family that lacked for nothing. That Rolex would have been many people’s prized possession, but he’d had two when he moved out of his parents’ Manhattan townhome. He’d never worn either of them—he was more of a Casio guy at heart. Rough-and-tumble, waterproof, takes a lickin’ and keeps on tickin’. No, wait. That was Timex.
He was living in what his father not-so-lovingly referred to as squalor. Danny poured all of his savings and the hefty inheritance he’d gotten when his grandmother died into the Janus Foundation. He drew enough of a salary to support himself, assuming he didn’t splurge on things like a car. Or air-conditioning. Or that one notable month, dinner.
But it was worth it. When Jillian and Tomas, his newest charges at the day center, unwrapped these iPads, the gesture would mean a lot more to them than the Rolex had meant to him. The Janus Foundation served supernatural kids who had lost their parents, secretly working alongside the foster system to help support more than just their physical needs. The foster system was tough enough without worrying about how your foster family would react if you sprouted fur or accidentally broke a bookshelf with telekinesis.
So Danny provided a safe space for the kids to gather and hang out, in addition to helping pay for basics like clothes and school supplies since supernatural kids tended to be a bit harder on their possessions and DCFS would only buy a kid so many pairs of jeans before caseworkers started asking questions. He also made sure the kids had access to the things they needed to help keep them balanced, like regular trips to the river for nymphs and weekend campouts for druids and dryads who needed to reconnect to the earth.
Danny had been twenty-two when his parents verbally disowned him, and that had been hard. He couldn’t even imagine the strength it took for these kids to keep soldiering on, day after day, when they couldn’t be with their own kind.
Danny curled in on himself with a shout as a black town car passed too close, showering him with dirty water. He shifted his satchel away from the wetness, cursing the driver for cutting the corner.
He was almost home anyway. His only plans for the evening involved Netflix and sitting in front of the fan in his boxers.
He’d wrap the iPads and add them to the stash in his coat closet, and then his responsibilities for the Janus Foundation would be done until the big back-to-school party in three weeks. He couldn’t wait to hand out the presents. He’d picked something expressly for each kid, whether it was an iPad or a laptop or expensive software or accessories, and he couldn’t wait to see their faces. Each present was tailored to their interests. It wasn’t really the cost that would make it so special—it was the thought that went into it and the extravagance of the gesture. Who buys a foster kid a GoPro? One of the few adults in her life who knew she wanted to be a filmmaker and had been secretly making documentaries with her crappy borrowed Motorola phone, that’s who.
He had plans for music and lots of food and expected the gift giving to be absolute chaos. He couldn’t wait.
Danny jogged up the two steps to his building’s foyer, muttering lowly when the security door opened with the slightest touch. It was supposed to be locked all the time, but it hardly ever was. He didn’t even try the elevator, which was out of service more than it was in, and trudged up the three flights of poorly lit stairs to his floor.
Half of the apartments were either vacant or had bright orange eviction notices taped to them. It made his heart hurt to think of the Robinsons, a nice family of four who’d lived next door until a few days ago. He’d helped out whenever he could, leaving them bags of groceries and helping the kids with their homework when they were home alone after school, but they’d needed more assistance than he could give them.
His father said his willingness to bend over backward for strangers was his biggest character flaw. It was ironic that a person who gave away millions every year for a photo op would turn his nose up at giving a family in need a bag full of canned goods.
Then again, his father had probably never seen a bag full of canned goods. God knows Danny had been surprised you could get things like meat in a can when he’d struck out on his own.
Danny’s heart jumped into his throat when he realized his apartment door was ajar. He’d definitely locked and dead bolted it this morning when he’d left for work. He pushed the door open, swallowing hard when it fell off its hinges in a cloud of dust and splintered wood.
Break-ins weren’t that common around here, mostly because no one had anything worth stealing. Hell, he didn’t even have a TV. But he did have a closet full of almost fifteen grand in gifts.
Danny rushed into his apartment, wincing at the way the door whined and cracked under his weight. His living room looked exactly like it had when he’d left, right down to the cereal bowl on the coffee table. The only thing amiss was the coat-closet door, which was wide open and revealed a few scarves on the ground and the pair of boots with the floppy sole he kept meaning to have repaired.
“Oh fuck.” Horror welled in his throat, making it hard to swallow.
They were gone.
His stomach lurched and he had to blink quickly to stem the hot flood of tears that threatened. He was not going to cry or throw up or sit down and bury his head in his knees.
He was an adult, dammit, and he could deal with this on his own.
Danny stared at the empty closet.
He could not deal with this on his own.
“Siri, call Sloane.”
a Rafflecopter giveaway
He didn’t live in the best of neighborhoods, but normally it didn’t bother him. Most of the time he didn’t have much to steal, but today he had a pair of iPads in his bag that probably cost more than the majority of the beater cars parked along the curb on his walk home.
He’d sold the Rolex his parents had given him for his high school graduation to buy these. Months of nonstop fundraising had paid for the rest of the bounty that was safely locked up in his apartment, but foster services had referred two more teens to the Janus Foundation last week, and he didn’t want to leave them out of his gift-giving extravaganza.
His kids often came to their foster families with nothing, and Danny did whatever he could to ease their transitions and give them what they needed to succeed. This year he’d wanted to do something extra. Something special and completely impractical. The kids deserved a surprise, and he had a whopper planned for them.
Danny had grown up in a family that lacked for nothing. That Rolex would have been many people’s prized possession, but he’d had two when he moved out of his parents’ Manhattan townhome. He’d never worn either of them—he was more of a Casio guy at heart. Rough-and-tumble, waterproof, takes a lickin’ and keeps on tickin’. No, wait. That was Timex.
He was living in what his father not-so-lovingly referred to as squalor. Danny poured all of his savings and the hefty inheritance he’d gotten when his grandmother died into the Janus Foundation. He drew enough of a salary to support himself, assuming he didn’t splurge on things like a car. Or air-conditioning. Or that one notable month, dinner.
But it was worth it. When Jillian and Tomas, his newest charges at the day center, unwrapped these iPads, the gesture would mean a lot more to them than the Rolex had meant to him. The Janus Foundation served supernatural kids who had lost their parents, secretly working alongside the foster system to help support more than just their physical needs. The foster system was tough enough without worrying about how your foster family would react if you sprouted fur or accidentally broke a bookshelf with telekinesis.
So Danny provided a safe space for the kids to gather and hang out, in addition to helping pay for basics like clothes and school supplies since supernatural kids tended to be a bit harder on their possessions and DCFS would only buy a kid so many pairs of jeans before caseworkers started asking questions. He also made sure the kids had access to the things they needed to help keep them balanced, like regular trips to the river for nymphs and weekend campouts for druids and dryads who needed to reconnect to the earth.
Danny had been twenty-two when his parents verbally disowned him, and that had been hard. He couldn’t even imagine the strength it took for these kids to keep soldiering on, day after day, when they couldn’t be with their own kind.
Danny curled in on himself with a shout as a black town car passed too close, showering him with dirty water. He shifted his satchel away from the wetness, cursing the driver for cutting the corner.
He was almost home anyway. His only plans for the evening involved Netflix and sitting in front of the fan in his boxers.
He’d wrap the iPads and add them to the stash in his coat closet, and then his responsibilities for the Janus Foundation would be done until the big back-to-school party in three weeks. He couldn’t wait to hand out the presents. He’d picked something expressly for each kid, whether it was an iPad or a laptop or expensive software or accessories, and he couldn’t wait to see their faces. Each present was tailored to their interests. It wasn’t really the cost that would make it so special—it was the thought that went into it and the extravagance of the gesture. Who buys a foster kid a GoPro? One of the few adults in her life who knew she wanted to be a filmmaker and had been secretly making documentaries with her crappy borrowed Motorola phone, that’s who.
He had plans for music and lots of food and expected the gift giving to be absolute chaos. He couldn’t wait.
Danny jogged up the two steps to his building’s foyer, muttering lowly when the security door opened with the slightest touch. It was supposed to be locked all the time, but it hardly ever was. He didn’t even try the elevator, which was out of service more than it was in, and trudged up the three flights of poorly lit stairs to his floor.
Half of the apartments were either vacant or had bright orange eviction notices taped to them. It made his heart hurt to think of the Robinsons, a nice family of four who’d lived next door until a few days ago. He’d helped out whenever he could, leaving them bags of groceries and helping the kids with their homework when they were home alone after school, but they’d needed more assistance than he could give them.
His father said his willingness to bend over backward for strangers was his biggest character flaw. It was ironic that a person who gave away millions every year for a photo op would turn his nose up at giving a family in need a bag full of canned goods.
Then again, his father had probably never seen a bag full of canned goods. God knows Danny had been surprised you could get things like meat in a can when he’d struck out on his own.
Danny’s heart jumped into his throat when he realized his apartment door was ajar. He’d definitely locked and dead bolted it this morning when he’d left for work. He pushed the door open, swallowing hard when it fell off its hinges in a cloud of dust and splintered wood.
Break-ins weren’t that common around here, mostly because no one had anything worth stealing. Hell, he didn’t even have a TV. But he did have a closet full of almost fifteen grand in gifts.
Danny rushed into his apartment, wincing at the way the door whined and cracked under his weight. His living room looked exactly like it had when he’d left, right down to the cereal bowl on the coffee table. The only thing amiss was the coat-closet door, which was wide open and revealed a few scarves on the ground and the pair of boots with the floppy sole he kept meaning to have repaired.
“Oh fuck.” Horror welled in his throat, making it hard to swallow.
They were gone.
His stomach lurched and he had to blink quickly to stem the hot flood of tears that threatened. He was not going to cry or throw up or sit down and bury his head in his knees.
He was an adult, dammit, and he could deal with this on his own.
Danny stared at the empty closet.
He could not deal with this on his own.
“Siri, call Sloane.”
Bru Baker has been writing for Dreamspinner Press since December 2012. She believes in Happily Ever Afters, but she almost always makes her characters work to get there. She and her husband live in the Midwest with their two young children, whose antics make finding time to write difficult but never let life get boring.
great excerpt
ReplyDeleteThank you for the excerpt and review!!
ReplyDelete