Dawn Stewardson - Wild Action

Cover Page

Excerpt “He’s not exactly Winnie the Pooh,” Nick whispered nervously. “He’s going to love you,” Carly whispered back. “Hi, Attila,” she called to the bear. “I’ve brought someone to meet you.” Attila grunted, then fixed Nick with a glare that didn’t look even remotely loving. Not that he really wanted the bear’s love. He’d be happy if it just didn’t eat him! Carly rubbed the big bear’s nose, then said, “Attila, that’s Nick. I want you to go and say hello to him. Two feet .” Standing up, he looked like an enormous sumo wrestler in a fur coat. “Good boy,” Carly said. “Now go say hello.” Attila gave a little snort and started toward Nick, who swallowed hard. “Hello, Attila.” The bear eyed him for another second, then took a final step forward, wrapped its arms around him and began squeezing him to death.

Dear Reader Dear Reader, In Tinseltown, Wild Action would be pitched as a romantic screwball comedy: Dirty Harry meets Gentle Ben. Of course, hero Nick Montgomery meets a whole lot more critters than just Attila the bear when he inherits half of an animal talent agency. And in the beginning he doesn’t have a clue how to deal with any of them. He also doesn’t have a clue how to deal with his newfound partner, Carly Dumont But that’s what makes the romance fun. As an animal lover, I found this book a delight to write. It’s not often that my research involves something like visiting an animal ranch and being licked by a bear, but the research for this one did. (And yes, bears’ tongues really are warm and smooth. For some reason, I was expecting them to be rough, like a cat’s.) At any rate, I hope you enjoy reading about Carly, Nick and the antics of the animals in the Wild Action agency. Warmest regards, Dawn Stewardson

Title Page Wild Action Dawn Stewardson www.millsandboon.co.uk

Dedication To John, always. With special thanks to Janet Howsam and Norman Phillips of the Northwood Buffalo and Exotic Animal Farm in Seagrave, Ontario, for giving me a special tour and patiently answering my “bear” questions. I hope all my Ontario readers come to visit you.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

Preview

Copyright

“He’s going to love you,” Carly whispered back. “Hi, Attila,” she called to the bear. “I’ve brought someone to meet you.”

Attila grunted, then fixed Nick with a glare that didn’t look even remotely loving. Not that he really wanted the bear’s love. He’d be happy if it just didn’t eat him!

Carly rubbed the big bear’s nose, then said, “Attila, that’s Nick. I want you to go and say hello to him. Two feet .”

Standing up, he looked like an enormous sumo wrestler in a fur coat.

“Good boy,” Carly said. “Now go say hello.”

Attila gave a little snort and started toward Nick, who swallowed hard. “Hello, Attila.”

The bear eyed him for another second, then took a final step forward, wrapped its arms around him and began squeezing him to death.

Dear Reader,

In Tinseltown, Wild Action would be pitched as a romantic screwball comedy: Dirty Harry meets Gentle Ben.

Of course, hero Nick Montgomery meets a whole lot more critters than just Attila the bear when he inherits half of an animal talent agency. And in the beginning he doesn’t have a clue how to deal with any of them.

He also doesn’t have a clue how to deal with his newfound partner, Carly Dumont But that’s what makes the romance fun.

As an animal lover, I found this book a delight to write. It’s not often that my research involves something like visiting an animal ranch and being licked by a bear, but the research for this one did. (And yes, bears’ tongues really are warm and smooth. For some reason, I was expecting them to be rough, like a cat’s.)

At any rate, I hope you enjoy reading about Carly, Nick and the antics of the animals in the Wild Action agency.

Warmest regards,

Dawn Stewardson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To John, always.

With special thanks to Janet Howsam and

Norman Phillips of the Northwood Buffalo and Exotic Animal

Farm in Seagrave, Ontario, for giving me a special tour and

patiently answering my “bear” questions. I hope all my

Ontario readers come to visit you.

“GOOD CAT,” Nick said, reaching the top of his ladder and swinging onto a main branch of the towering maple. “Good cat”

From above, Blackie peered down with a little cat smirk. Nick took that to mean the beast was contemplating one of its higher-and-higher routines, and the prospect made him swear under his breath.

He wasn’t a superstitious man, so it didn’t really bother him that Blackie made a point of crossing his path on a regular basis. But this trick with the tree was damned annoying—especially since he knew the cat would eventually come down on its own. At least, that’s what the several cat owners he’d asked had told him.

Unfortunately, his next-door neighbor didn’t believe it. Even more unfortunately, Hilda was eighty-three years old and Blackie was the most important thing in her life.

Nick swung up onto a higher branch; Blackie twitched his whiskers and glanced skyward.

“Okay, here’s the deal, cat. You stay right where you are, and I’ll let you out of this with all your nine lives intact.”

Blackie edged farther out on his branch to consider the offer. Nick climbed another foot or two, then tried a quick grab.

The cat managed to hiss, lash out with a paw and scramble backward all at the same time.

Nick checked his hand and saw the beast had drawn blood. Thus far, it was definitely winning this round, so he fixed it with one of his best cop glares. “I’m warning you, I’ve been up all night and I’m in no mood for your games. I need sleep, not exercise.”

Blackie made a low growling noise and arched his back. Nick muttered a few ungentlemanly words in reply. He’d spent the past fifteen hours convincing an escaped con to release his hostage, and he’d done a far better job of negotiating with the man than he was doing with Blackie.

Of course, the con had spoken English. The cat only spoke Meow.

He considered that for a moment. Then, telling himself nobody would ever know, he stared Blackie straight in the eye and hissed loudly.

The cat blinked, looking startled. He recovered in a second, but not before Nick made another grab— and this time lucked out.

Gingerly pulling the squalling animal to his chest, he pinned it with one arm and started back down the tree, thinking that if anyone ever tried to give him so much as a pet rat, he’d take off on the dead run.

“Oh, thank you so much,” Hilda said as he reached the ground and handed Blackie to her. “I don’t know what I’ll do after you move.”

“Well, with any luck your new neighbor will be a tree climber, too.”

He listened absently while Hilda promised him freshly baked cookies, wishing she hadn’t reminded him he was being evicted. He’d been renting this place for six years and he’d be happy to stay for six more. But when an owner decided to sell, the tenant generally had to go.