Alice’s Alpha
By
Ann Gimpel
Publisher:
Liquid Silver Books
ISBN:
978-1-62210-012-5
Release
Date: 7/1/13
35,000
words
Spicy
hot shifter ménage story
Snared
by the shifter mate bond, Alice’s carefully tended wasteland of a heart cracks
wide open.
Genre:
Paranormal Romance
It’s 1936. Thirty-year-old Alice has almost given up
finding a man. Between civil engineering and mountain climbing, her interests
are so masculine she scares men away. A poor route choice lands her next to
horror movie star Lon Chaney’s cabin deep in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. She’s
wary when Jed, a strikingly handsome man, offers her shelter.
By the time she discovers he’s clan leader for a pack of
wolf shifters, she’s in way too deep to back out. Her carefully tended
wasteland of a heart cracks wide open and all her preconceived notions shatter.
Snared by the mate bond, Alice discovers passion hot enough to change her
forever. She’s just getting used to Jed when his clan brothers show up, and she
discovers she’s mated to all three.
Excerpt:
…Alice sputtered. The stranger had just
accused her of shoving Brent over a cliff. “How dare you?” she cried. Her face
heated from more than the fire. She balled her hands into fists at her sides.
“Well.” He cocked his head to one side.
“I wasn’t there. You’re on your feet, and he isn’t. What is he, your husband?”
She gritted her teeth. “No.”
“What then? Brother, cousin—”
“He’s just a friend and it’s really
none of your business. If you’ll unlock the door, I’ll take my chances with the
mountain lions.” Alice grabbed her lantern and her pack and strode toward the
door, eying the windows as possible escape routes. They could work. She’d have
to unlatch the wooden shutters, but still… “You can have my ice ax. I don’t
need it anymore.”
He shot her a blinding smile. His eyes
glowed like exotic gemstones. She blinked. Alice had never seen such a gorgeous
man. Red-gold hair fell to his shoulders. His face was more than handsome. He
had a high, broad forehead and sharply cast cheekbones. His teeth were very
white and very straight. What would it feel like to run her fingers through
that wonderful hair, to stroke his tanned skin?
She shook herself mentally. I have to get out of here. Alice covered
the remaining distance to the door and rattled the knob. “Let me out. It’s
against the law to hold people against their will.”
“You’re being hasty. I apologize for
suggesting you injured your friend. Please,” he gestured toward a carved wooden
sofa with colorful cushions in front of the fireplace, “I’m not being a very
good host. Have a seat. Let me get you a drink.”
“I don’t think so.” She curled her
fingers around her pack straps. A spicy, exotic scent filled her nostrils. It
seemed to be coming from him. A cross between bay rum and musk made her nose
twitch. Alice tried to cling to fear and outrage, but felt them slipping away.
She took a step closer to him before she realized what she was doing. Her gaze
fixated on his lips. She wanted to feel them pressed against hers, needed to
lose herself in his arms.
What’s
wrong with me? How could I be so attracted to him? She struggled to regain her
equanimity, but her body had other ideas. Her gaze swept lower. When she
realized she was staring at his crotch, she got hold of herself. Heat flooded
her face. She hoped he hadn’t noticed the direction of her gaze.
“Please,” he repeated and extended a
hand, “I don’t even know your name. Like I said, I haven’t been much of a
host.”
Alice swallowed hard. It didn’t make
sense, but she wanted to run into his arms and wrap hers around his lithe frame
to see what it would feel like right up against her. Her nipples hardened
again, and her breath caught in her throat. It was like he was making love to
her from ten feet away. For one wild moment, she wanted to strip her clothes
off and…
“Here.” He walked to her and pried her
pack and lantern out of her hands. She tried to hang onto them, but her fingers
wouldn’t cooperate. Close like that, his lush scent surrounded her. She closed
her eyes and inhaled deeply. Christ! For the first time she understood the
phrase “It smelled good enough to eat.” To her horror, Alice’s lips parted and
turned upward, as if she were waiting for a lover to kiss her. What the hell is happening to me?
She shook her head hard and took a
couple steps away from him and her pack. She couldn’t think. Hell, she could
barely breathe. Her crotch was wet; it throbbed with need.
“Your name?” He set her pack next to a
chair and moved to her side.
“Alice.” Her throat was thick. It was
hard to talk.
He tugged her wet jacket off her
shoulders and draped it over a chair. “Well, Alice, how about if you sit by the
fire and I’ll bring you something to drink. Food, too, if you want. Your boots
look pretty wet. Maybe you’d like to take them off.”
She tried to tell him that no, she needed
to leave, but the words wouldn’t come. There was a part of her—the wise
part—that wanted to run like hell. The rest of her couldn’t have left if
someone lit a firecracker under her ass. She breathed in his scent. It was like
a balm, heating her nerve endings and soothing her fears at the same time.
She watched his graceful form move to
the kitchen alcove. He had a high, tight ass and long legs. She wondered again
what his skin would feel like beneath her fingers. Alice caught a glimpse of
herself in a mirror mounted to one side of the fireplace. Spots of color rode
high on both cheeks. Her eyes glowed. Her nipples were fully visible pressed
against the fabric of her wool shirt, and so were the curves of her breasts.
She bit her lower lip and chastised herself for not wearing a bra. She’d hoped
Brent might get … ideas if he could see more of her body. Except she flaunted
it right and left, and he never did. And now here she was with a stranger—
Am
I so desperate I don’t care anymore, just so long as someone has sex with me? It didn’t feel like that, though. Not
really. It was more like she’d known Jed in some other lifetime and had some
sort of bond to him. Alice rolled her eyes. I’m
being ridiculous. It’s just nerves and exhaustion catching up.
“Here you go, sweetheart.” He pressed a
glass into her hand and set a plate on the coffee table near the fireplace.
“Come on. Sit. You must be exhausted.”
Alice sat, but it was because her legs
didn’t want to hold her up anymore. To her surprise, he knelt and unlaced her
boots. Once both layers were loosened, he tugged first one and then the other
off. “Just as I thought,” he murmured. “Your socks are soaked.” He stripped
them gently off her feet and hung them over the table’s edge nearest the fire.
It did feel good to get her heavy boots
off. Alice wriggled her toes. They were cold. Almost as if Jed could read her
thoughts, he rubbed her feet between remarkably warm hands. Her body sank back
against the cushions. She took a sip of whiskey; it burned all the way to her
stomach. She followed it with another. Her free hand moved with a will of its
own. She yanked it back before it buried itself in Jed’s shiny hair.
He pushed back on his heels and rose in
a single, fluid motion. In moments he was back, kneeling by her feet. He
wrapped a warm towel around them. She moaned softly. “Where’d you get that?
Surely you don’t have electricity all the way out here.”
He laughed. “It was on a hook by the
fireplace. The fire warms the stones so anything hanging next to them gets toasty.”
His blue gaze latched onto hers. “Relax. Everything will be all right. Have a
bit more whiskey. It’s from Ireland and more than twenty-five years old.
There’s bread and cheese on the table.” He winked at her, a slow, lascivious
wink, which made her heart beat faster. “Let me spoil you a little.”
“I really shouldn’t.” Her words lacked
conviction. She knew it. Worse, so did he.
He rubbed her feet through the towel
and then wrapped it around one while taking the other in his hands. He massaged
her weary arches and the ball of her foot with knowing fingers. “Do you always
do what you should?”
The sexual innuendo was unmistakable.
Her swollen pussy lips and clit thrummed with tension. She took another sip of
whiskey, letting it roll around on her tongue. It was rich and oaky, like
liquid gold. “Usually.”
“What’s that saying? Good girls never
have any fun.” His fingers worked her toes, and then shifted to the top of her
foot and her ankle.
“I climb mountains. Most girls don’t do
that.” Her head buzzed pleasantly from the liquor. I should eat something. If I don’t, I’ll be drunk in no time. Alice
leaned forward and took a slice of cheese from the blue earthenware plate on
the table in front of her. She wrapped a piece of bread around it and took a
bite. The bread was flaky and fresh. It tasted homemade.
The longer he worked on her feet, the
more she wanted him. Alice was mystified. She’d masturbated her lust away
before, but what was happening to her now was in a whole different league.
She’d never felt she’d die if she didn’t come. It didn’t take much to imagine
those strong hands moving up her calves, settling between her legs, and… Her
hips twitched. She covered the involuntary motion by shifting her position on
the couch.
“I was talking about fun, not mountaineering.”
He rubbed the spaces between her toes with gentle strokes.
“But they’re the same.” Her face heated
again. The special place deep inside her ached to be filled. She wished she
knew more about sex. It just wasn’t the sort of thing people ever talked about,
though. She’d hunted down medical texts in the library, but they hadn’t been
terribly helpful, other than giving her names for intimate body parts.
“There’s more than one way to have
fun.” Jed wrapped the foot he’d been working on in the towel and switched to
the other. “Is it still warm enough, sweetheart? Would you like me to get
another?”
“No, really, I’m fine.” Alice was
flustered—and so aroused she couldn’t think. She rubbed her thighs together.
Maybe there’d be some way she could sneak off to the privy. Her head would be
clearer if she made herself come. She drank some more whiskey. Between that and
his suggestive comments about good girls and fun, the sensitive nub between her
legs throbbed mercilessly.
She settled into the feel of his hands on
her flesh. Her feet really were tired. The heavy, two-layer mountaineering
boots didn’t have much give to them. They were made by a German manufacturer,
and the standing joke in the climbing community was you had to adapt to them
because they’d never bow to you. The next time she raised her glass, she was
surprised to find it was empty. Alice set it on the table and leaned back
against the cushions.
“Would you like more?” His voice was
rich and smooth, just like the whiskey.
She shook her head. “I’ve probably had
more than enough. I—” Alice stifled a gasp. He’d bent his head and taken her
big toe in his mouth. He sucked gently, and then ran his tongue down the
underside of her foot. Her hips writhed against the sofa cushions. His mouth
moved to her second toe and he sucked harder. He ran a nail down the underside
of her foot, and then did it again.
Heat roared through Alice. Her arousal
from moments before was nothing compared with what was happening to her now.
Her thighs fell open. Fingers moved between her legs. Momentarily confused, she
was horrified to discover she’d jammed a hand atop her vulva and was rubbing
her clit through layers of pants. She tried to drag her hand away, but her body
had other ideas. It wanted to come. Had to have release or she’d die.
Her face heated with lust and
humiliation. She glanced at him. One of his hands was buried in his crotch. The
swell of an erection tantalized her and made her even hotter. He must have
sensed her gaze on him because he raised his face from her foot. “Just let it
happen, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice raspy with passion. “We needed to start
somewhere. If you were any closer to coming, you’d be there. Go on, rub
yourself. Or,” something feral and untamed blazed from the depths of his blue
eyes, “I can do it for you.”
About the
Author
Short Bio:
Ann Gimpel is a clinical psychologist, with a Jungian
bent. Avocations include mountaineering, skiing, wilderness
photography and, of course, writing. A lifelong aficionado of the
unusual, she began writing speculative fiction a few years ago. Since then her
short fiction has appeared in a number of webzines and anthologies. Several
paranormal romance novellas are available in e-format. Three novels, Psyche’s
Prophecy, Psyche’s Search, and Psyche's Promise are small press
publications available in e-format and paperback. Look for two more urban
fantasy novels coming this summer and fall: Fortune’s
Scion and Earth’s Requiem.
A husband, grown children, grandchildren and three wolf hybrids
round out her family.
@AnnGimpel (for Twitter)
.jpg)
.jpg)