Title: Snow's Submission
(#2 of Snow White Werewolf Tale)
Author: Kristin Miller
Genre: Paranormal Romance, Erotic, Adult
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I used to be sweet and innocent…but that was until Hunter put his hands on me. Now, my body craves his, and we’ve crossed the point of no return.
My stepmother demands that I seduce a rich jeweler to secure our fortune, and under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t mind. He’s hotter than hell, I’ve been crushing on him for years, and after catching Hunter pleasuring me over the hood of his car, he wants me too.
There’s only one problem: now that I have Malcolm’s attention, I’m not sure I want to leave Hunter’s arms.
Excerpt . . .
I’m not quite sure what I was expecting, but four guys huddled around a circular poker table, fisting beers in one hand and cards in the other was not it. It’s not the poker table or the chaos ensuing over a busted hand of Texas Hold ’Em that has the breath frozen in my lungs. It’s the guys’ drop-dead, double-take–worthy good looks. I’d seen them when they’d first arrived and were exiting their cars in the driveway. But I must’ve been preoccupied because my brain didn’t register the details of their hotness.
Golden tan skin. Square, stubble-covered jaws. Strong, wide shoulders. Full, lush lips revealing Colgate-white teeth. Roughed-up jeans. Arm tattoos peeking from beneath the sleeves of black T-shirts.
As my gaze skids from one to the other, I realize each one is better looking than the last. With the exception of Hunter, of course. The level of his sexiness is untouchable.
With a curse, the smallest werewolf of the bunch pushes back from his chair storms into the kitchen. Only then do I notice their size.
Holy Zeus, they’re huuuuuge.
Not a single runt in the bunch.
A few of them must have Viking blood or something. Or maybe they’ve got mutated superhuman genes that make them larger than the average male. Whatever the cause, these guys are the most muscular men I’ve ever seen. Stripped right from a men’s muscle magazine.
Stripped.
My mind careens straight for the gutter. Shirts ripping in half, revealing ripples of hot, wet corded muscle. Six packs. Twitching chest muscles. Dark tattoos. Pants dropping to the floor, revealing their long, thick--
“Snow?” Hunter’s touching my arm. “You all right?”
“Mm-hmm.” I suck up the drool that was collecting in my mouth. Did someone kick up the thermostat? I feel like I’m sweating. “Fine.”
Every single one of them. F-i-fuck-me-fiiiine.
It’s as if I’ve walked into a room full of the Avengers, drop-dead sexy and fully capable of beating anyone’s ass. Only, these guys are hotter. And single.
Score.
Giveaway . . .
About the Author . . .
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