BLIND ACCEPTANCE by Missy Martine

BLIND ACCEPTANCE by Missy Martine

The Wind River Pack

Laynee Conners has been in a school for the blind since her mother died when she was five. Now, her father wants her to come home so he can get his hands on the inheritance her grandfather left her.

David and Eric Rivers are brothers, adopted into the Wind River Pack. They’re called home to Wyoming when their alpha wants to do a head count of all his pack members. Children are disappearing from other packs, and he’s concerned about his family.

The brothers find Laynee in the woods, drugged and left to die. Both their beasts claim the fragile young woman as their mate.

Can a bear and a wolf share a mate?

Time’s running out. They have to convince Laynee she’s theirs before her father succeeds in his plans.

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~Excerpt~

Groaning, Laynee slowly opened her eyes and shivered. “Father?” She felt groggy, her head almost spinning. Her tongue felt thick, and a bad taste coated her mouth. She could smell an earthy, pine scent mixed with the odor of damp, rotting wood. The air was crisp and bitingly cold. She reached out her hand and trailed her fingers over the rough bark of a tree. A cold wind ruffled through her hair.

“Ugh,” she groaned when she felt the moisture seeping into her jeans. She could feel the prickle of briars against her palms as she pushed to a sitting position, the spongy ground making her draw back in horror. Why can’t I think clearly? Everything seems so fuzzy. “Where the hell am I, Father?” she screamed.

She froze and tried to calm her breathing, listening carefully for the sound of voices. The only sound was the branches creaking and the groaning of the trees in the wind. She wrapped her arms around her waist and tried to stop from shaking. “What am I gonna do now?”

Trying to control her fear, she struggled to her feet and reached out with her hand to steady herself against a tree. Dizziness nearly overwhelmed her as she dropped to her knees. She turned her face to the wind and strained to hear a familiar sound. After a minute, she tried to stand and froze. The rhythmic sound of footsteps beating against the path caused her breath to catch. “Who’s there?” she whispered.

“I can hear something panting.” Using her legs, she pushed back toward the tree when something plowed through the brush. When she heard an excited yip, she turned to the direction it came from and smiled. “Doggy, here boy.” Barely able to keep her eyes open, she held out her hand. Moments later, something cold and wet pressed against her palm.

She took a shaky breath and laughed. “You’re a big fellow, aren’t you?” Laynee continued to pet him, laughing when he licked her cheek and neck, partially leaning on his firm back. The heat from his body drew her. She scooted closer and hugged him tight.

“You’re so warm, boy. Do you think I could warm myself for just a minute?” It was almost like he understood, cuddling closer, giving her the warmth from his body. “Fellow, we need to get out of here. You’ve got to have a master somewhere.” Her hands rubbed over his neck. “You don’t have a damn collar. Are you a stray?” She sighed when he licked her cheek. “Do you think you could lead us out of here, big guy? I can’t make it on my own. You’ll have to let me lean on you. I’m not feeling too well.”

* * * *

Eric sniffed Laynee’s neck, whined, and then growled softly. She’s my mate! There was something off about her scent, but there was no doubt, this woman was his mate. He spotted a drink can on the ground and leaned down to sniff it, growling when he caught the unnatural scent. She was drugged, just like the man said. When she stiffened, he stopped growling and licked her cheek, whining when he felt her relax against him.

Turning, he stared at her face and froze. Her blank gaze was directed his way, but it was obvious she didn’t see him. My beautiful mate is blind! What kind of a man would leave his blind daughter to fend for herself?

Another unusual scent caught Eric’s attention. He raised his nose and breathed in deeply. With a low growl, he pulled away from Laynee and moved to the other side of the tree.

“Wait,” Laynee cried, and tried to grab for him, nearly falling flat on her face.

He hurried back so she could touch him, but not before he saw the raw meat lying on the ground. It’s a miracle some animal didn’t find her before I did. I’ve got to get her moving toward the highway so David can find us. They were too far from the road for David to pick up her scent unless he shifted. I’d hate to see how she’d react to hearing a bear lumbering through the woods.

Eric nudged her thigh and watched in horror as she tumbled over onto her side. Damn, I didn’t mean to knock you down.

Laynee groaned and pulled herself up. “I’m sorry, boy. I can’t seem to wake up. I’m so dizzy.”

Eric growled softly. I know why you’re dizzy. All those drugs are still in your system. It’s gonna be hard getting you back to the car if I don’t shift.

Determined, he nudged her thigh again and gripped her shirt between his teeth and pulled. She got the message and pulled herself up.

“Okay, boy. I’m coming. Keep your shirt on.” She got shakily to her feet, leaned heavily against Eric, and threaded her fingers in his ruff, holding on tight. Eric leaned down, closed his jaw around the soda can, and then prodded her forward, moving her around rocks and limbs as carefully as he could. Slowly they made their way toward the highway.

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BLIND FORTUNE by Joanna Waugh

BLIND FORTUNE by Joanna Waugh

When what a lady hears isn’t always the truth, she must learn to see with her heart and trust the rest to... Blind Fortune

They say love is blind, but Lady Fortuna Morley doesn’t believe it. Sightless since birth, she can think of only one reason a gentleman would wed her—for the dowry and three thousand a year her father will provide.

She’s in London the spring of 1814 to help launch her younger cousin into society, but prefers living quietly in country with her music. The last thing Fortuna wishes is to cross swords with the arrogant Marquess of Granville. Charles Lowden, Lord Granville, has decided to take a wife. The bride he’s chosen is thirteen years his junior, but meets all criteria.

What he won’t abide is interference from the girl’s impertinent cousin, the outspoken and opinionated Lady Fortuna Morley. The woman is determined to thwart the match. Charles is just as determined to charm Fortuna out of her disdain for him.

What neither expects in the ensuing battle of wills is to fall in love.

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An Excerpt From: BLIND FORTUNE

Copyright © JOANNA WAUGH, 2008

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Golden light spilled across the terrace to highlight her freckled nose and rosy lips. It turned Fortuna’s captivating green eyes an eerie light brown. Disconcerted once again by the gold flecks in their depths, Charles stepped back and clasped fists together beneath the tails of his coat.

“Are you feeling more the thing, my lady?”

No reply. Just that dazed expression on her face. It took a moment for Charles to remember she couldn’t see the polite concern he’d pasted on his own. With a critical eye, he studied the gown Fortuna wore. What modiste had risked her reputation fashioning such a thing? Rows of small, green, leaf-shaped appliqués ran in vertical lines down the gauzy half-skirt. The scooped bodice sported off-the-shoulder sleeves in a style that seemed altogether too girlish for its wearer.

“Shall I fetch you a glass of punch?”

Fortuna shook her copper curls as if coming out of a dream. The flowered bandeaux in her hair shed a few petals and, without thinking, Charles reached out to lightly flick them off her shoulders.

Coloring under his touch, she shied away. “I’m quite all right, my lord.” Her voice was wary. “Just give me a moment to catch my breath.”

They’d both been left breathless by that waltz, Charles wryly observed. Fortuna’s acquiescence on the dance floor had startled, then aroused him. Now he rued the spectacle they’d made. Gossip would be rife upstairs, especially with the two of them out on the terrace, unchaperoned. Charles frowned as he pondered how to extricate himself politely from a situation that was becoming more ticklish by the second.

“Shall I fetch Miss Ashford?” he asked.

“I’d prefer to return to the ballroom.”

Then Charles remembered the reason he’d asked for this tête-à-tête in the first place. It was time to make that apology. Just a few words and all would be forgiven. They could part ways in charity.

“Before I do, Lady Fortuna, I’d like to beg your pardon for that callous remark I made the other day.” When she didn’t respond, he lamely added, “I had no idea you were blind.”

Inwardly, Charles cursed himself for admitting such stupidity.

“I accept your apology,” she replied in a tight voice but her words lacked conviction. “Now, take me back to my cousin.”

He frowned. That imperious attitude again. He’d never met such an overbearing woman. “Not until I’m certain you’ve recovered.”

Fortuna bristled. “I’m no invalid, my lord. Neither am I a helpless female.” She started for the French doors with hands groping before her. “I can find my own way, thank you.”

Charles grabbed her upper arm before she could take three steps. “Are you daft, woman? You’re like to trip over your own slippers and break your neck.”

With an indignant yank, Fortuna freed herself from his grasp, then batted at his hand as if fending off an attack. “I don’t need help from you!”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the couples disengage from the shadows and scurry toward the house. The lady’s head was bent low and her eyes were averted but the gentleman hesitated as if to speak. Charles leveled a challenging look on him and the fellow beat a hasty retreat, as did another pair of lovers a moment later.

This was pure insanity. If he wasn’t careful he’d be leg-shackled to the Morley chit, or forced to meet one of her male relatives at dawn on Wimbledon Common.

Drawing up with dignity, Fortuna stood in the middle of the terrace with light streaming around her. She looked like a religious icon, Charles wryly noted, Joan of Arc at the stake.

“I may be blind,” she said, “but my ears work perfectly. I hear what people say about you.”

“Indeed,” Charles drawled, much diverted by an image of her tied to a post with flames licking at her feet. “And what, pray tell, is being said?”

“That you’re arrogant and cold. Incapable of tender feelings.” She hesitated for a moment as if gathering courage, then lifted her chin. “And that you keep a mistress, a French émigré by the name of Mimi.”

That last statement surprised him. Charles blinked in astonishment. “Hardly a topic for the ears of gently bred young ladies, I should think,” he muttered.

“How ironic,” Fortuna continued in an acerbic tone. “So-called gentlemen can squire around the lowest form of female but a lady can’t even mention them in polite conversation.”

Annoyed, Charles raked the fingers of one hand through his hair. “Rather say it’s the way of the world.” He sighed.

“The word ‘hypocritical’ comes to mind, my lord.”

“And ‘impudent’ comes to mine,” he snapped back. “I find this conversation unseemly and offensive.” The warning tone he used was one that never failed to cower servants.

Yet the chit seemed oblivious to the threat. In a prim tone she said, “I’m very much concerned about your attitudes, my lord. Especially with regard to marriage.”

Charles was dumbstruck for a moment. Then, in a tight voice, he asked, “And why should my philosophy on the wedded state matter to you?”

“If you intend to marry my cousin, it matters a great deal. I’ll not see Juliana bound to a man who refuses to honor his marriage vows. She deserves the love and respect of a devoted husband.”

“What curious notions you have,” Charles drawled with deliberate sarcasm. Her air of moral superiority was starting to grate. “Respect is something one earns, Lady Fortuna. For women, it means remembering their place.” He allowed those words to hang on the air. Then, in a derisive voice, he asked, “But tell me, what has love to do with marriage?”

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