Snow's Submission
by Kristin Miller
Series: A Snow White Werewolf Tale, #2
Genre: Erotic Paranormal Romance
Release Date: June 12, 2017
Hair black as a raven’s coat, skin as white as snow, lips as read as, blabitty-blah, blah, blah. If one more person calls me sweet and innocent, I’m losing my head.
I’ve got more pressing matters to think about. Like the fact that our wolf pack is in serious debt. If I can’t find a way to secure financing for our estate, we’ll lose our shifting sanctuary. My stepmother—wonderfully wicked as she is—has come up with a plan: seduce a rich jeweler who’s visiting for the weekend. And then, when he agrees to bond with me and make me his forever, we’ll be saved. Not such a bad deal, considering he’s crazy hot, and I’ve had a crush on him forever.
One problem: I’m not a temptress, not by a long shot. It’s a good thing my childhood best friend, Hunter, has come back into the area. He’s always been a playboy and knows how to get what he wants. He agrees to teach me the rules of seduction, but before long, I realize I’m the one being played.
The second I step into the lodge’s great room, my words cut short.
I’m not quite sure what I was expecting, but four guys huddled around a circular poker table, fisting beers in one hand and cards in the other was not it. It’s not the poker table or the chaos ensuing over a busted hand of Texas Hold ’Em that has the breath frozen in my lungs. It’s the guys’ drop-dead, double-take–worthy good looks. I’d seen them when they’d first arrived and were exiting their cars in the driveway. But I must’ve been preoccupied because my brain didn’t register the details of their hotness.
Golden tan skin. Square, stubble-covered jaws. Strong, wide shoulders. Full, lush lips revealing Colgate-white teeth. Roughed-up jeans. Arm tattoos peeking from beneath the sleeves of black T-shirts.
As my gaze skids from one to the other, I realize each one is better looking than the last. With the exception of Hunter, of course. The level of his sexiness is untouchable.
With a curse, the smallest werewolf of the bunch pushes back from his chair storms into the kitchen. Only then do I notice their size.
Holy Zeus, they’re huuuuuge.
Not a single runt in the bunch.
A few of them must have Viking blood or something. Or maybe they’ve got mutated superhuman genes that make them larger than the average male. Whatever the cause, these guys are the most muscular men I’ve ever seen. Stripped right from a men’s muscle magazine.
Stripped.
My mind careens straight for the gutter. Shirts ripping in half, revealing ripples of hot, wet corded muscle. Six packs. Twitching chest muscles. Dark tattoos. Pants dropping to the floor, revealing their long, thick—
“Snow?” Hunter’s touching my arm. “You all right?”
“Mm-hmm.” I suck up the drool that was collecting in my mouth. Did someone kick up the thermostat? I feel like I’m sweating. “Fine.”
Every single one of them. F-i-fuck-me-fiiiine.
It’s as if I’ve walked into a room full of the Avengers, drop-dead sexy and fully capable of beating anyone’s ass. Only, these guys are hotter. And single.
Score.
I’m not quite sure what I was expecting, but four guys huddled around a circular poker table, fisting beers in one hand and cards in the other was not it. It’s not the poker table or the chaos ensuing over a busted hand of Texas Hold ’Em that has the breath frozen in my lungs. It’s the guys’ drop-dead, double-take–worthy good looks. I’d seen them when they’d first arrived and were exiting their cars in the driveway. But I must’ve been preoccupied because my brain didn’t register the details of their hotness.
Golden tan skin. Square, stubble-covered jaws. Strong, wide shoulders. Full, lush lips revealing Colgate-white teeth. Roughed-up jeans. Arm tattoos peeking from beneath the sleeves of black T-shirts.
As my gaze skids from one to the other, I realize each one is better looking than the last. With the exception of Hunter, of course. The level of his sexiness is untouchable.
With a curse, the smallest werewolf of the bunch pushes back from his chair storms into the kitchen. Only then do I notice their size.
Holy Zeus, they’re huuuuuge.
Not a single runt in the bunch.
A few of them must have Viking blood or something. Or maybe they’ve got mutated superhuman genes that make them larger than the average male. Whatever the cause, these guys are the most muscular men I’ve ever seen. Stripped right from a men’s muscle magazine.
Stripped.
My mind careens straight for the gutter. Shirts ripping in half, revealing ripples of hot, wet corded muscle. Six packs. Twitching chest muscles. Dark tattoos. Pants dropping to the floor, revealing their long, thick—
“Snow?” Hunter’s touching my arm. “You all right?”
“Mm-hmm.” I suck up the drool that was collecting in my mouth. Did someone kick up the thermostat? I feel like I’m sweating. “Fine.”
Every single one of them. F-i-fuck-me-fiiiine.
It’s as if I’ve walked into a room full of the Avengers, drop-dead sexy and fully capable of beating anyone’s ass. Only, these guys are hotter. And single.
Score.
Start the Series
Book One: Snow's Seduction
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