Prequel in the Shifting Bonds Series After discovering her boyfriend is married, veterinarian Jayda Kynslan decides to give up on men. She has every intention of planting her feet firmly on the path of celibacy - right after one more night of shameless sex with a stranger. A vacation in Montana would certainly ease the pain of betrayal and offer her anonymity.
Police chief and wolf shifter council leader, Cole Takoda, needs a break from investigating the murders of shifters plaguing his town. When a beautiful stranger seduces him at the local tavern it's more than a tryst...it's uncontrollable desire. And Cole can't stand it. To top it off, their quickie becomes a revelation of shifter secrets and unfulfilled prophecies.
The discovery of a dead man in the forest behind Jayda's rented cabin thrusts her into a foreign world of animal shifters and murder and the man she thought was only a casual diversion seems to be the only one willing to hear her side of the story. Jayda's just not sure if Cole's going to take her to jail - or his bed.
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An Excerpt From: BONDED SOULS
Copyright © NINA PIERCE, 2010
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Chapter One
Jayda Kynslan sauntered into the Whip and Bull Tavern, wanting only two things—a cold beer and a hot cock. The first, she hoped would ease the heavy ache in her chest. The second would be attached to a good-looking man who would replace the images of the jackass who’d broken her heart. This whole road trip to the high mountains of Montana had been a knee-jerk reaction to the asshole’s selfishness. Jayda shook her head, clearing away thoughts of the friggin’ pig of a manwhore. She didn’t want to go there tonight. This night was about getting a little buzz and a whole lot of sex.
Her first objective was only as far away as the bar across the room. But weaving her way through the handful of empty tables, her red cowboy boots tapping across the peanut shells strewn on the marred floor, Jayda realized finding someone to fulfill the second thing on her wish list wasn’t going to be as easy. She’d picked a bad night to go cruising for male flesh in a nearly empty bar that seemed to cater to the college crowd.
Plunking her voluptuous ass on one of the padded barstools, Jayda lifted her hand to the bartender. Some might consider Jayda overweight, but she liked to think of her size-sixteen frame as curving in all the right places. Why men would go for the little waifs with nothing to hold on to, like the petite blonde behind the bar, was beyond her understanding.
“A long neck. Something domestic. I’m not picky,” she said to the female bartender, who looked only slightly less bored than Jayda felt at the moment. Except for football season, which had already passed, she figured Monday nights, even in a cowboy town like Lonesome Fork, weren’t really big tavern nights for most people.
The bartender’s ponytail swayed as she set down the bottle, offered a glass, which Jayda refused, and slid over the bowl of peanuts. In a hurry to begin her vacation, Jayda hadn’t bothered to eat lunch before leaving the vet clinic. Anticipation had kept her driving through the Montana mountains and now her stomach rumbled, reminding her she hadn’t taken time to fix herself dinner before leaving the cabin either. Grabbing a handful of nuts, she broke open the shells and popped them in her mouth. She scanned the reflections of the patrons in the mirror behind the bar, searching for possible targets.
Tonight, Jayda decided, would be her last go-around with the opposite sex—unadulterated, uncomplicated coitus with a complete stranger. A nice memory to hold on to in the quiet of the night when she was alone in her bed. Jayda didn’t want to need a man. She was a successful veterinarian in a big practice. It should be enough.
After tonight, she’d spend the week in solitude at her friend’s mountain cabin, mending her shredded heart and planting her feet solidly on the path to celibacy. Obviously, two weeks drowning her sorrows with tears hadn’t helped. Men, Jayda had come to believe, were nothing but scumbags of trouble on the garbage heap of misery. The sooner she cleared them from her mind, the happier she’d be.
Jayda nervously toyed with the bangle bracelet at her wrist. She’d chosen this evening’s outfit to accent her best features. Her ass was swaddled in her favorite pair of worn jeans. A white cashmere sweater displayed her plentiful cleavage quite nicely. The clothes definitely announced, “I’m yours for the taking.”
She hadn’t wanted to mess with the corkscrew curls of her hair while traveling the ninety minutes from her condo in Blackfish Springs to the cabin in Lonesome Fork, so Jayda had pulled the whole mess into a long French braid. The thick tail of black curled over her shoulder and draped invitingly over her left breast.
Unable to make out faces in the murky light of the tavern, Jayda gave up on her sly inspection of the clientele and kicked the stool a half turn. Leaning one elbow on the padded edge of the bar, she casually sipped her beer, assessing her chances of getting laid.
A rowdy group of young men, barely old enough to drink, sat at a booth, flicking a paper football between them. A few others spilled onto the tables next to them. Most likely students from the state university at the base of Coppertip Mountain. Though their youthful stamina would be a definite plus, Jayda thought a more experienced man would leave her with more satisfying memories. A sigh puffed out her cheeks, and she turned the stool back to the bartender.
“Quiet tonight,” she said.
“Give it another thirty minutes.” The bartender flicked her head toward the door leading to the back room of the tavern. “Monday’s the mechanical bull competition. They’ll start filtering in here soon enough.” The woman swirled a couple of beer steins in some homemade rig for cleaning glasses and set them next to the sink. “Not from around here?” She turned the statement into a question.
“That obvious?” Jayda casually shelled a few peanuts, adding the husks to her neat pile on the bar. “I grew up in New York City, but now I’m living in Blackfish Springs. Even after four years in the foothills of Montana, I can’t seem to lose the city accent.”
The bartender smiled. “Lonesome Fork’s a small town. I know most everyone coming and going. Accent’s not that obvious.” The bartender used her cloth to wipe the bar and push the peanut shells to the floor. “Part of the Whip and Bull’s ambiance,” she said, almost as an apology. “What brings you to Lonesome Fork?”
“A man.” Jayda immediately regretted the words. It didn’t help that the cobalt eyes staring back at her grew wide with surprise. Jayda’s hand shook with her head, wiping away the confusion. “That came out wrong.” She took a long pull of her beer, trying to wash down the embarrassment. “What I mean is…I’m not looking for a man. I just broke up with my boyfriend and I’ve come here for a vacation to get my head on straight.”
Tension eased out of the bartender’s shoulders and she smiled and nodded. “I’m Becca.” She wiped her hand down the small apron around her waist before extending it to Jayda. “Nice to meet you…”
Jayda shook her hand, relaxing into the female kinship of understanding. “Jayda. Jayda Kynslan.”
“Well, Jayda, Jayda Kynslan, welcome to Lonesome Fork.” Becca leaned in conspiratorially. “I guarantee the fresh mountain air smells a hell of a lot better than testosterone.”
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