Title: Wolf Warriors Duet Author: Marteeka Karland Genre: Paranormal Romance
Future Earth. The privileged few build their wealth on the backs of slaves who are neither man nor beast, but both. Those with gold to spare spend it at the Arena… betting on the Warrior Shifters is the pastime of the elite.
Claimed by the Guardian Wolf: Miranda is the daughter of one of the cruelest Gladiator owners. Still her heart remains pure. The last thing she bargained for was catching the eye of the fiercest warrior of all — Brandwulfr.
To Brandwulfr, Miranda is a way out of this godforsaken realm, a way to get home. He doesn’t need to be attracted to the silly little human. Yet something in her touch awakens the wolf within him…
Taken by the Wolf King: Caught between deadly politics and a man bent on claiming her, all Elsa can afford to focus on is saving her children — at any cost.
Tortured and maddened by pain, Leif vows revenge on the woman he would have made his queen. Will his hatred of what she was forced to do build a wall between them that can never be torn down?
Warning: Adult Content including graphic violence, scientific experiments, alien abduction, and torture, may be triggers for some readers.
Publisher’s Note: Wolf Warriors Duet contains the previously published novels Claimed by the Guardian Wolf and Taken by the Wolf King. These books have been extensively edited for this volume.
“Where are we going?” he asked as he fastened his breeches before stomping into his boots.
She seemed to choose her words carefully, glancing more than once at the camera in the ceiling. “There is a place in the city hardly anyone goes. It’s one of the most beautiful and tranquil places I’ve ever seen.”
“Then why does no one go there?”
“It’s… private.”
Why did the mere mention of this place set him even more on edge?
“But I want you to see it. It’s so beautiful,” she finished in a rush. “Come.” She took his hand, leading him from her apartment.
Leif thought she’d relax once outside, but she didn’t. Not even a little. If anything she grew more agitated. Hands sweating, Elsa gripped his like a lifeline, clutching one of his in both of hers. A fine shiver went through her body with every step. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing!” Her response was vehement and instantaneous. “Nothing at all.”
His first instinct was to let go of her hand so he’d have a better chance of defending them both should trouble find them. But she clung so tightly to him, like he was her only lifeline in a turbulent sea, and he couldn’t make himself. His battle wolf clawed at the surface of his subconscious, wanting out, needing to protect both him and Elsa.
They approached a clearing surrounded by a densely wooded area. Over the trees, Leif could see a massive wall rising. The feeling of being trapped suddenly blossomed in his chest, making normal breathing nearly impossible. This was wrong. So very wrong. His feet absolutely would not take him any farther. “No,” he grated, sniffing the air. He pulled Elsa close to him, enfolding her in his arms. “Not right…”
“Just… just a little farther,” she urged, her voice quaking slightly as she tugged him forward, deeper into the greenery.
“Elsa,” he snapped, his voice barely above a whisper. “Stay close to me. If we are attacked, stay behind me and keep your hand on my back so I know where you are.”
She… didn’t. Instead. Elsa eased away from him, tears flowing freely down her face. “I’m so sorry, Leif,” she said in a broken whisper. “So sorry…”
Romance author by night, emergency room tech/clerk by day, Marteeka Karland works really hard to drive everyone in her life completely and totally nuts. She has been creating stories from her warped imagination since she was in the third grade. Her love of writing blossomed throughout her teenage years until it developed into the totally unorthodox and irreverent style her English teachers tried so hard to rid her of. Now, she breathes life into faeries, space hunters, werewolves, vampires, shapeshifters, and a few just plane ole ordinary people. She loves to see the awkward, self-conscious band geek get the captain of the football team and make him beg for it.
It wasn’t my idea to come on the reality show, because who really falls in love after twelve weeks? I’m not good at love… or being camera-ready 24/7. The other contestants know all about the First Date Rose, how to get The Suitor alone on a group date, and they all have a plan on how to best win his heart. It’s not going to be easy playing nice with them.
But when I meet The Suitor— Grayson Grant, former player on and off the field, and with the smile that can light up a city—it’s the spark between us that makes me forget all the reasons I didn’t want to come on the show.
I’m going to win this.
Unfortunately, twenty-five other women think the same thing.
Falling for The Suitor is the first in the new Suitor Science Series, a charmingly sweet, swoony, and laugh-out-loud romantic comedy full of sparks and power surges.
One step, then another; a shuffle hop as a surge of excitement overshadows my nerves, and I grin in a foolish sort of way.
Closer up, I see I was wrong; he’s more than cute. And taller than I expected. The blond hair gleams in the light, the eyes—I think… blue—crinkle at the corners. He’s a younger Brad Pitt, with a little Chris Evans thrown in, and the easy charm of Chris Pratt. He’s all the Chrises rolled into one baseball-playing, suit-wearing, nicely shaved, really cute…
And then the way his gaze tracks my every move, his smile growing with my every step like he’s looking forward to this as much as I am, makes things tingle that haven’t tingled in a very long time.
Finally, I’m standing before The Suitor, as nervous as Cinderella at the ball. “Hi.” I take a deep breath and my smile widens. “Hi.”
Holly Kerr is the author of fifteen chick-lit, romantic comedy, and women’s fiction novels, but don’t ask her to explain the differences in the genres. She grew up a farm girl but now calls Toronto home, where she lives with her three very tall children, following their sports exploits like any dutiful mother.
She’s a lover of Marvel movies, Star Wars movies…really, any movies, and has a surprising amount of worthless pop culture info stored in her head. She likes oceans over mountains, tea over coffee, and can mix a darn fine dirty martini, with extra olives, of course.
She’s survived dangerous missions for the government, but can she survive life among the rich?
Davia Glenn is the first woman on a covert paramilitary team until a mission goes deadly wrong. She inherits a fortune, moves to a wealthy community, and soon discovers the crazy under all that money. On a terrorist’s hit list, Davia must navigate her new life while dodging assassins.
Torn between two men and two worlds, Davia must decide her future— but this time, she wears haute couture instead of camouflage and combat boots.
If you love the grit of Jack Reacher and the fun of Stephanie Plum, one-click Dior or Die today for your next addicting, suspenseful mystery read.
I sat in a chair blindfolded, arms bound behind me with duct tape, and a gag stuffed in my mouth. The relentless
gunfire battered my senses.
Control the mind-game, Davia.
Forcing my hands into tight balls, I leaned forward and arched my back, preparing to free myself. In response, a bullet cracked one of my chair’s legs, and I almost crashed to the ground.
This ordeal was a boys’ club welcome to the first woman assigned to the most elite covert paramilitary team in existence. Of course, the team wouldn’t greet me with candy and flowers, but this?
My face grew hot from suppressed fury as the rounds whizzed past unabated. I slowed my breathing. Four breaths in, four out.
Again.
Finally, there was silence.
The malignant perfume of gunfire burned my nostrils. I listened for the click of empty magazines dropped and replaced. Instead, booming laughter and the dull thud of men slapping each other’s backs echoed through the space.
“Let’s give Glenn some time to sit in her messed drawers.” It was
James Warden, my team’s leader. When we met this morning at our training base in Virginia, he radiated Apex Alpha. Now, I amended it to Apex Asshat.
“We can tell the colonel we didn’t hit the hostage,” said another.
More guffaws.
After their voices drifted away, I renewed my efforts to break the bindings. Within minutes, I was loose. I spat the gag from my mouth and tore the blindfold from my eyes, temples throbbing. How long would it take my shattered hearing to return in full?
My location was a plywood shoot house with movable walls. Dummy targets riddled with bullet holes surrounded me, and spent brass casings blanketed the floor like a golden carpet. Crouching, I snuck to the door, flattened myself against the wall, and peeked out.
Another teammate, Savant, sat at a distant table under a canvas shade, headphones atop his mop of fair hair. Hunched over a laptop, he bopped in time to an unheard beat. Gunfire began at a nearby range.
The group had moved on.
Bending, I lifted the combat knife strapped to my right calf and noticed a bullet hole had pierced a cargo pocket. The round missed my leg by a fraction of an inch.
I was almost a victim of high-speed lead poisoning.
Jaw set, I crept forward and thrust the knife under Savant’s chin in case he wanted to continue the hazing. Complex surveillance images streamed across his laptop’s screen as heavy metal blared from the headphones I tugged off.
“Don’t move,” I hissed.
“Oh, hey, Davia.” He pointed toward the distant gunfire. “Have fun.”
He never looked up.
Dropping Savant’s headphones into his lap, I put my knife back in its sheath. At the weapons table, I selected a submachine gun.
Popping in filtered ear protection, I stalked out to the range. Let’s find the hyenas.
Four battle-hardened men turned in sync when I approached, their expressions ranging from surprised to annoyed at my unexpected appearance.
“Sorry, I’m late.” My voice was saccharine sweet, like I was tardy for a Sunday picnic.
“We wasn’t ’specting you at all,” said Hodge, our burly Texan medic. “You’re tougher than a one-eared alley cat.”
Most worked to hide smiles, but Warden scowled. “Careful with that gun,” he said. “I’ll show you how to use it in a sec.”
Show me? I trained for years on every weapon they used, and some they didn’t. Not pausing, I discharged all my ammo, disintegrating the bullseye of the target.
When I finished, teammate Ned tugged at his scruffy beard and said, “We should nickname you Bombshell, and not because you’re blonde.” The men all laughed, except Warden.
I grew up in a small town in Southern California. My early writing career began when I created a neighborhood newspaper, won an American Legion essay award in 8th grade, and became editor of my high school newspaper.
At age 24, I became a prosecutor for the San Diego County District Attorney’s office. I handled high-profile murder, rape, domestic violence, and gang cases. When I person I convicted made death threats, I trained in self-defense and weapons with a former black-ops agent. This led to the creation of my protagonist, Davia Glenn.
I’m a Distinguished Toastmaster and like to advocate for suicide prevention, elder abuse prevention, and fighting sex crimes against children.
This all sounds serious and achievement driven, but I also enjoy traveling, taking photos, and Korean dramas. I have two cats and a great guy.
