Debbie Herbert - Bayou Wolf

The taming of the shrew…

Tallulah Silver is tough. She has to be—because she’s the Choctaw tribe’s only female shadow hunter, and because she doesn’t know how else to survive the loss that almost destroyed her. Payton Rodgers has devoted his life to protecting his pack. But when mauled bodies start to pile up in the bayou, Payton begins to wonder if Tallulah might be right about werewolves deserving the blame. As darkness gathers around them, Tallulah will have to decide if she can risk opening herself up to love again. And Payton will have to determine where his true loyalties lie.

“We can settle this between the two of us, no need for the police,” he replied. “For the last time, what are you doing here?”

“And if I don’t change my answer?”

Maddening. What a shrew. Her eyes flashed, and her chest rose and fell with her hot-tempered breathing. Ah, but she was sexy as all get-out. His gaze focused on the cleavage exposed by her deep V–neck shirt.

A leather-fringed, beaded necklace with some sort of woven charm settled in the space between her rounded breasts. He couldn’t help it. Payton reached a hand out to touch it, his fingers lightly brushing her skin.

Heat sparked his fingertips and spread throughout his body, and he dropped his arm and stepped backward. For a brief instant, he caught a returning fire banked in Tallulah’s widened eyes—until animosity again took its place.

“What’s that on your necklace?” he asked, trying to break the tension.

“A miniature dreamcatcher I wove. And don’t you dare touch me again like that.”

Did he imagine it, or did her voice sound a tiny bit husky? His desire doubled. Here was an opportunity. He dared, all right.

DEBBIE HERBERT writes paranormal romance novels reflecting her belief that love, like magic, casts its own spell of enchantment. She’s always been fascinated by magic, romance and gothic stories. Married and living in Alabama, she roots for the Crimson Tide football team. Her eldest son, like many of her characters, has autism. Her youngest son is in the US Army. A past MAGGIE® Award finalist in both young-adult and paranormal romance, she’s a member of the Georgia Romance Writers of America.

Bayou Wolf

Debbie Herbert

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text The taming of the shrew… Tallulah Silver is tough. She has to be—because she’s the Choctaw tribe’s only female shadow hunter, and because she doesn’t know how else to survive the loss that almost destroyed her. Payton Rodgers has devoted his life to protecting his pack. But when mauled bodies start to pile up in the bayou, Payton begins to wonder if Tallulah might be right about werewolves deserving the blame. As darkness gathers around them, Tallulah will have to decide if she can risk opening herself up to love again. And Payton will have to determine where his true loyalties lie.

Introduction “We can settle this between the two of us, no need for the police,” he replied. “For the last time, what are you doing here?” “And if I don’t change my answer?” Maddening. What a shrew. Her eyes flashed, and her chest rose and fell with her hot-tempered breathing. Ah, but she was sexy as all get-out. His gaze focused on the cleavage exposed by her deep V–neck shirt. A leather-fringed, beaded necklace with some sort of woven charm settled in the space between her rounded breasts. He couldn’t help it. Payton reached a hand out to touch it, his fingers lightly brushing her skin. Heat sparked his fingertips and spread throughout his body, and he dropped his arm and stepped backward. For a brief instant, he caught a returning fire banked in Tallulah’s widened eyes—until animosity again took its place. “What’s that on your necklace?” he asked, trying to break the tension. “A miniature dreamcatcher I wove. And don’t you dare touch me again like that.” Did he imagine it, or did her voice sound a tiny bit husky? His desire doubled. Here was an opportunity. He dared, all right.

About the Author DEBBIE HERBERT writes paranormal romance novels reflecting her belief that love, like magic, casts its own spell of enchantment. She’s always been fascinated by magic, romance and gothic stories. Married and living in Alabama, she roots for the Crimson Tide football team. Her eldest son, like many of her characters, has autism. Her youngest son is in the US Army. A past MAGGIE® Award finalist in both young-adult and paranormal romance, she’s a member of the Georgia Romance Writers of America.

Title Page Bayou Wolf Debbie Herbert www.millsandboon.co.uk

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

The creature had been watching her ever since she entered the forest, half-hidden in the lengthening shadows. Trees rustled in the distance. One small sapling bowed, bending over until the tip brushed the ground. It was too far away for even her keen eyesight to locate the creature’s form or even a vague outline. But Tallulah sensed its energy emanating from the woods. A deer, perhaps? No, that wasn’t right. Too bold for a deer. Whatever it was, it didn’t appear to be a threat—for now.

Red feathers and black ribbons fluttered in the bayou breeze as she fastened the dream catcher to a cypress branch. Dozens of similar artifacts hung in varying states of disintegration, a shrine to her one and only love.

Bo had died here—832 nights ago—in this very spot. On this lonely patch of swampland, amidst the droning roar of a million mosquitoes, with nary a loved one to hold his numbed hands. Bohpoli Leyland, one of the most courageous shadow hunters of the Choctaw, was no more.

Tallulah tidied the area, rearranging her mandalas of seashells and clumps of crystals. Usually, tending the area was a comfort, a touch of spiritual communion. Sometimes she even talked out loud to Bo, recounting the day’s events or updating him on news of their friends. As if her words weren’t merely empty vibrations dying in the wind.

But this afternoon, she couldn’t shake the awareness of being watched. The longer the creature hung around, the more it bugged her. Whatever it was, the animal was curious, hungry, stupid, or some combination of all three.

She set about dusting pine straw from her little offerings to Bo. A hunk of rose quartz here, a beaded prayer rope there, an angel figurine.

Twigs snapped nearby.

Her brain and body lit into action. She quickly felt for the dagger tucked into her belt and scanned the gathering darkness. Patterns of long shadows crisscrossed the massive Spanish moss-draped oaks, the ever-present pine trees and the dense underbrush of saw palmettos. Nothing was visible out there, and only the barest of vibrations from the ground tingled the soles of her feet in warning.