Excerpt From “Damon” in Moonscape Book 10 of the Insatiable Werewolf series


This is chapter 1 of “Damon.” It’s a work in progress and there will be changes made before it’s published. Since you signed up for my email, I thought you would like to read what I’m working on next. Look for it in January, 2017. Remember most of my books are for adults 18 and over. If you have comments, suggestions, or inquirers, you can contact me at:  rachelerice04@gmail.com

I’m always interested in your comments concerning my books. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

  “You can’t treat Saadia like your bitch. She deserves a better man than you.”

“I’m not a man. I’m a werewolf. Or have you forgotten dear brother,” Tracker said as he stepped closer to Damon looking him in the eyes trying to provoke him, reminding him of his status in the family as a beta.

“You’re not even a good werewolf. Look at you,” Damon snapped. “No amount of riding that motorcycle and dressing in those black leathers will make you a man or werewolf.” He flung Tracker’s leather jacket across the room where it rested on the limestone floor.

Tracker’s eyes followed the jacket. He loved that jacket. When Damon touched his jacket it was as if he laid hands on him. Tracker took that as an insult. Damon wanted it to be just that.

“If you’re searching for something you’ve missed it,” Damon said with loud emphasis. “You had your chance with Saadia. Now I want a chance to make her happy.”

Damon stepped back realizing he’s wrong. Not seeking a confrontation but he was just pissed. Damon was never one to run from an argument or fight, however, this is different. They are full grown werewolves. When they were pups, the only thing that might have occurred would be a wounded ego or torn ear.

“What?” Tracker replied in a threatening stance. His legs wide his eyes steely blue.  He stepped up to Damon meeting him eye to eye with a furrowed brow. This time Damon didn’t give ground.

Tracker’s eyes boiling with anger. His nostrils flaring. Damon could hear Tracker grit his teeth and smell Tracker’s breath.

“You want to fuck Saadia?” Tracker said laughing. “That’s what you want little brother. You want to fuck her. Have her bend over so you can take her from behind. The way no human female will give it to you. The way I can get it from her? ”

Damon shuddered with contempt. He flexed his hands. His breathing grew loud.

Turning his back still laughing at Damon, Tracker strode to the fridge, opened it, and looked around for something to eat. He found fresh lamb. Picking up a leg, he took a large bite. The blood dripped on the counter. He reached for a paper towel and wiped his mouth and then the counter. Then he watched at Damon as sweat dropped from his nose. It was a sign that he was angry. Downright pissed at Tracker and Tracker knew it and shot him a wide grin and chuckle.

“Did you get a boner every time you got near her thinking about putting your cock in her? Well dream on little brother. You’ll never get a chance to smell her. She’s mine.”

Damon stood glaring at Tracker wanting to walk away but his pride wouldn’t let him.  Would he admit to Tracker something that had been obvious to everyone but Saadia? No he wouldn’t be pulled into Tracker’s game. He calmed and took a deep breath. Tracker would enjoy him admitting he wished he could sleep with her, and make love to her outside under the stars and in listening distance of Tracker.

Damon wished Saadia would give him a chance where he could punish Tracker for his arrogance and ill treatment of her. Make Tracker work for Saadia for once.

“I see it in your eyes. You don’t have to admit it,” Tracker said breaking into another round of laughter. “You can’t fuck her because she won’t let you,” Tracker said his voice energetic and every time he took a bite of food he let out a chuckle and watched at Damon squirming.

“I don’t want to fuck her. I want to make love to her.” Tracker stopped chewing on the lamb.

“You would. Have you used that brain for anything other than to interfere in everyone’s life?” Tracker laid the half eaten leg on the counter, leaned forward and peered at Damon.

“Unlike you, I don’t use my dick for my brain,” Damon said. And Damon stepped away from Tracker.

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