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Title: A Shifter’s Claim

Author: Marie Johnston

Genre: Paranormal Romance

About A Shifter’s Claim:

A shifter without a mate is a shifter without a mind.

It’s been five years since Shilo’s mate walked out on her and she’s been just a little, tiny bit unstable, a feeling that isn’t helped by the impending fight with a neighboring colony. She might not be all there, but even a crazed shifter knows waking up in a stranger’s bed hours from home to find the contacts from her pack murdered means she’s in trouble.

Aimless and restless and unconcerned with anything beyond his next one-night stand, Waylon agrees to act as bodyguard for some shifter pack liaison embroiled in a power struggle. What could it hurt? He’s been aching for five years, and maybe this assignment will take his mind off all he’s lost. But when he meets his client, his world stops. It’s her. His mate. The one he left.

Thanks to their history, he can’t just walk away and leave her as a target. Thanks to her instability, she can’t go home without backup. If either wants to survive the bloody present, both will have to set aside their heartbreaking past and fight for their uncertain future.

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Fabric rustled and drawers opened and closed. He was packing. His muscles were probably flexing and bunching as he bent and stretched to pack a bag, but she refused to watch him.

“Are you going to shower before we go?” she asked. On the other hand, the stench of sex on him was a turnoff. Should be a turnoff. Maybe wasn’t as much as it should be.

“After you. If I have to smell that rich guy on you, you can smell…”

She barked out a laugh to cover her relief that he couldn’t seem to remember his partner’s name either. “Trixie? Melinda? Davina?”

“I’m not sure we got that far,” he grumbled like he wasn’t happy about it.

“Eau de rich guy it is then.” She stood. “Oh wait, you needed to eat.” Her stomach rumbled. Had she not eaten yet, either?

“We’ll grab something on the way.” He was going for the door, but she went to his fridge. A package with the butt of a loaf of bread was wadded in the corner. Moldy cheese slices were next to it, and in the middle was a carton of milk that could probably walk itself to the sink. Takeout Chinese containers and pizza boxes littered the other shelves.

Waylon was the best cook she knew. Was he boycotting cooking?

“Good thing shifters don’t get clogged arteries.” She stared at the pizza boxes. The pizzeria in Ironhorse Falls had shut down. She’d love to sink her fangs into a greasy slice.

“Are you hungry or horny?” Waylon’s voice broke in. “It was always hard to tell with you.”

She couldn’t be angry. He was right. She liked food as much she liked sex. “Starving. Mia’s Pizza closed. Let’s grab pizza.”

“Why the hell did they close?” Waylon’s jaw was slack, like hearing Mia’s was no more made the world a darker place. And Shilo would agree.

“Their shipments were always delayed to the point that their goods were spoiled by the time they arrived. Most businesses are having those issues in Ironhorse Falls.”

“Covet pack?”

She nodded. “We can’t prove it. Flat tires. Blown engines. They get hopelessly lost in the country. Lately, orders have been getting canceled or amounts get messed up to the point of breaking the bank, and since Langdon Covet is a tech genius, you can see why it’s been so hard.”

His jaw tensed, the muscle she used to nibble jumping. “We’d better get going.”

She took a fortifying breath. Ironhorse Falls and all of its packs were in trouble. Waylon was back in her life and she was taking him back into the lion’s den. At least they could be civil. She could keep her distance. As long as he kept his.

Marie Johnston is an award-winning writer of paranormal and contemporary romance, and a RITA® Finalist. Marie decided to pursue her passion for writing and traded in her lab coat for a laptop to write her first book ever, Fever Claim. She lives in the upper Midwest with her husband, four kids, and two kittens. Other than hanging out with her family, Marie enjoys reading, movie dates with her hubby, getting outside on sunny days, and the all too rare – girls’ night out.