FMR

  FULL MOON RISING

  TALES OF THE WEREWOLF CLAN

  SABRINA LUNA

  ISBN 9781615087471

  All rights reserved

  Copyright 2012 Sabrina Luna

  This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission.

  For information:

  http://SizzlerEditions.com/Encounter

  Sizzler/Encounter [follow with either Science Fiction, Fantasy or Horror depending on which it is]

  A Renaissance E Books publication

  CONTENTS

  INTRODUCTION

  BOOK I: A BAD MOON RISING

  BOOK II: FULL MOON FEVER

  INTRODUCTION

  Scottish wolf shifters! It was an idea which came to me one

  morning as I woke up from a good night's sleep. While my coffee

  was brewing, I booted up my computer and found myself searching

  the internet for anything on wolves in Scotland. I was rewarded with

  a few historical facts about the last wolf in Scotland which was killed

  by a man named McQueen in the 18th century.

  Taking that little bit of historical fact, I began to create a world of

  wolf shifters who escaped Scotland and settled in the foothills of the

  Carolinas in a town called Heather Grove –and their decedents still

  live there today. Not long after, I began writing A BAD MOON

  RISING with the encouragement of several author friends. I enjoyed

  writing about Derek Lee, a lone wolf, who has relocated to the town

  and falls for Megan McShaw, a lovely wolf shifter in her own right

  and member of the local pack –and that's when their trouble begins!

  After having such fun writing this wolf story, I wrote FULL

  MOON FEVER, expanding on the Scottish wolf theme and telling the

  story about Megan's brother, Ray McShaw, a protective alpha, and an

  inquiring journalist, Jac Hamilton. Jac is stranded in Heather Grove

  and asking questions about things which the local wolf shifters want

  to be kept secret. After her life is threatened, Ray takes it on himself

  to keep her safe and ... well, you'll find out what happens.

  Both of these McShaw clan stories are erotic romance with

  interlaced with the paranormal, humor and excitement which, for me,

  was great fun to write! They fit together so well, the pair seem always

  intended to be a book. I hope you enjoy reading them in this special

  edition!

  Thank you!

  BOOK I

  A BAD MOON RISING

  CHAPTER 1

  Megan McShaw gripped the Honda's steering wheel tight. Her

  heart pounded wildly in her chest as she listened to her passenger's

  ragged breathing from the seat beside her. She could also sense his

  fear, mingled with confusion, and the metallic scent of blood that

  lingered in the confines of the small car. The fact her wounded

  passenger was nude didn't help matters. Sometimes she wished she

  wasn't so aware, but it was a part of her sithech nature.

  She glanced in the rearview mirror. No headlights. Megan exhaled

  a soft sigh of relief. "Don't worry. We're not being followed," she

  reassured her friend, not taking her eyes off the road.

  "Meg, sweetheart, I-I don't know what came over me. I didn't mean

  to 'turn wolf' at the bar. Honest, I didn't." The sincerity in his voice

  caressed over her body like raw silk. "MacDonald was shooting off

  his mouth and, yeah sure, I got pissed, but – "

  "It's not entirely your fault, Derek." Megan sighed, glancing at the

  sky through the windshield. "It's the moon. Look – almost full." She

  pointed to the large, rust-colored disk in the night sky.

  "You're shitting me, right?" Even in shadows, she could tell he was

  staring at her, perplexed. "That's the kind of stuff in Hollywood B-

  flicks and fairy tales ... not real life!"

  "We'll discuss it later, Derek. After we get to the cabin, we'll have

  a long talk." Megan glanced out of the corner of her eye and

  nervously licked her lips. "You just keep that blanket wrapped around

  you and lie back. Take it easy." She flashed him a tight smile. "And

  try not to bleed on my upholstery, okay?"

  Despite the tenseness of the situation, Derek Lee chuckled. The

  warmth of his laughter trickled through her, from her heart straight to

  her sex. She'd seen every inch of him, running naked down Main

  Street right after he'd transformed back from wolf to man. And he

  was all man. For a split moment, she'd been spellbound, watching his

  muscles ripple under his flesh as he'd made a wild dash to her car,

  clutching his arm.

  Now, even in the semi-darkness of the car's interior, she could see

  the rest of his unquestionable good looks – the firmness of his jaw that

  accented the even symmetry of his face and those warm, amber-tinted

  eyes. Derek's stunning features were topped off by a golden tan and

  his wild, blond mane.

  As he shifted in the bucket seat, a groan of pain escaped from his

  lips. Derek straightened, still cradling his wounded arm. "You know,

  you didn't have to stop to help me, Megan."

  "And if I didn't stop, you'd run the risk getting caught or worse.

  Lucky for you Officer Murray is a lousy shot, but you're still in

  trouble," she firmly reminded him. Slowing the car, she turned onto a

  narrow strip of gravel road. In light of the moon, the road was half-

  hidden by an overgrowth of weeds, making it barely visible to the

  naked eye.

  "Where are we going anyway?"

  "You'll see," she quipped. To her relief, he only let out a heavy

  sigh. He settled back in the seat and fell silent.

  Oh boy! He's definitely an alpha. Megan returned her attention to

  the bumpy road ahead. No doubt about it!

  She had only met him a month ago and the attraction was instant,

  but she knew there was something different about Heather Grove's

  newest resident. Her keen intuition detected he was sithech. Whether

  he knew it or not, he was searching for something ... or someone.

  Derek Lee was not an aimless drifter who'd just happened to wander

  into town. But then, Heather Grove was no ordinary town.

  Half of the population descended from her family clan, banished

  from the Highlands of Scotland in the eighteenth century. Settling in

  the Americas, the McShaws and their kin harbored a secret. A secret

  in their blood, passed on throughout the generations. They were a

  clan with sithech blood coursing through their veins – blood of the

  wolf.

  The McShaw family and their wolf pack had created a tight-knit

  bond with the townfolk of Heather Grove. For many years, their

  secret stayed within the town limits. The wolf clan lived by the rede,

  "Bother no one and no one will bother you." It was an age-old bit of

  advice ingrained into every sithech. Megan's family was no

  exception. She and her older twin brothers, Raymond and Richard,

  lived by the rede.

  Fear coiled in Megan's gut. She was sure her brothers would be

  alerted to Derek's moon-induced transformation this evening at the

 
bar. Ray and Ritchie were two of the lead protectors of the pack.

  They'd be looking for the rogue wolf, she was certain. However,

  Megan was struggling for self-control. Her feelings for Derek were

  growing, spreading through her like wildfire. Hot, desirous ... and

  deadly.

  * * * *

  Gravel crunched under the tires as the Honda came to a stop.

  "We're here," Megan announced with a weary sigh and shut off the

  engine.

  "Where is 'here'?" Derek inquired as he unsnapped the seat belt.

  His wound was laced with pain, but he'd managed to control the

  bleeding by tying the remains of his sleeve around his injured

  forearm.

  "It's my father's ... was my father's cabin. It was his special place

  where he could escape from the world."

  "So, is that why you have those groceries in the back?" He

  gestured, thumbing toward the plastic bags strapped into the back seat

  of the car.

  "Fortunately, I was heading back from the grocery store when

  Rhonda called. There was a report on her scanner about a wolf

  running loose down Main Street." Megan's voice was tight, strained

  with emotion. "So, I got my tranquilizer pistol and headed into town."

  "So you do this often? Do you always check out every report of

  rabid, runaway wolves?" Derek raised an eyebrow, fixing his gaze on

  the lovely redhead beside him.

  "Well, of course I checked it out. And you're damn lucky I did,

  too!" she snapped.

  Derek could see impatience flair in her emerald green eyes.

  "I know," he replied in a calmer, lowered tone. "Meg, I'm grateful.

  And, you're right, if Officer Murray was a better shot, I'd been one

  dead wolf. Thanks." Derek leaned close, tenderly laying his uninjured

  hand on top of hers. "I owe you one."

  Something stirred in the space between them. Derek knew the

  moon had very natural powers, but he could have sworn he felt a

  current of energy surging in the close quarters of the car.

  "You don't owe me anything." Megan shook her head as if she, too,

  were trying to break the spell. She slid her hand free from his touch

  and reached for the door, casually changing the subject. "The cabin's

  very Spartan. However, I came out here this spring for a quiet

  weekend. So, it's a little cleaner than you might expect."

  There was a hint of a smile on her luscious lips. Derek fought the

  urge to lean over and kiss her. Deep down, however, he had a gut

  feeling he knew why she'd backed away. She could sense the beast ...

  the damned wolf inside him. And he didn't blame her one bit.

  "I'll turn on the power. Can you get the bags?" Her voice seemed

  entirely under control, despite the circumstances.

  Derek nodded and stepped out of the car. The chilly evening

  breeze brushed his face, cooling the heated trail of sweat that dotted

  his brow.

  Tying the blanket around his waist, he watched as Megan

  disappeared to the back of the small cabin. Within a few moments,

  there were a couple of loud snaps, then a low hum.

  "Power's on!" she called out, rounding the corner and stepping up

  onto the wooden porch.

  Toting the plastic bags, Derek was cautious as he made his way up

  the steps. The boards creaked with age and neglect. "Look, Megan,

  you shouldn't be helping me. If someone finds out about this, I don't

  want you involved."

  "But I am involved. I picked you up, remember?" She slid a key

  into the keyhole and pushed open the door. Megan stepped inside the

  doorway and flicked a switch on the wall, flooding the cabin with

  light.

  Basically a single room, the cabin was indeed small. Big enough

  for one or two adults at best, Derek noted. A table and two chairs

  along with smaller than average appliances made up the kitchenette,

  with a double bed and miniature fireplace in the opposite corner in

  what appeared to be the bedroom area.

  A narrow door near the back of the cabin must open to the

  bathroom, Derek observed. The cabin was indeed compact, but at

  least had the basics for someone to survive for a weekend in such

  cramped quarters.

  "Here, let me take those." Megan reached out and took the bags

  from his hands. "And take a seat over there." She nodded to a

  kitchenette chair as she began putting the groceries away in the rustic-

  looking storage cabinets. "I have a first-aid kit here to patch up your

  arm, then I'll rummage up some clothes for you."

  "Look! It's already stopped bleeding," he replied with a weary

  smile. "And I didn't get a drop of blood on your car seat."

  "Bully for you." Megan winked as a sly smile curled her lips.

  "Guess that's one less thing we have to worry about, huh?"

  Derek shifted uncomfortably in the chair, gazing up into her eyes.

  "About tonight, Megan, I'm really sorry for everything. Unlike you, I

  don't understand what's happening. I've always been in control of the

  beast. It's never been the other way around ... well, until tonight."

  "The Samhain moon is growing full. The full moon affects those of

  us with wolf-blood differently. Whatever happened to you at the bar

  only tipped the scale. We're unique creatures, you and I. Within us,

  there is a delicate balance between our human side and our sithech.

  During the full moon phase, some of our kind may experience violent

  outbursts, while others experience extreme ... uh, arousal." Her cheeks

  flushed pink in the kitchen light.

  Derek suppressed a grin, sensing her aura of cool confidence waver

  slightly. The awkwardness was short lived.

  "Now, let me see your arm," she bid, scooting the other chair close

  to him. She popped open a small first-aid kit.

  Derek leaned into the light, revealing a jagged two inch mark along

  his flesh. "I don't think it's deep, but it bled like a son of a bitch."

  "It may not be deep, but you'll be lucky if this one doesn't leave a

  scar," Megan frowned. "The bullet just grazed your skin. Murray's

  usually an ace-shot, but missed for once."

  Derek shivered as her warm hand encircled his arm to inspect the

  wound. There was something happening inside him – a spark, a

  connection through her tender, simple touch that sent his senses

  reeling. He inhaled a slow, steady breath, trying to keep his focus.

  "Thank goodness it's not too serious. I don't think I have enough

  supplies for anything more than a scratch or a splinter." She glanced

  up at him and smiled, then returned her attention to the first-aid kit,

  digging through its contents.

  Seated directly in front of him, her scent enveloped him. It was

  warm, earthy and laced with musk, exciting his senses. Derek tried

  futilely to stop the erotic images of Megan from flickering through his

  mind.

  "So, why don't you tell me what happened tonight at the bar?" she

  asked, not looking up as she cleaned his wound.

  A flicker of anger shot through him, cutting through his lusty

  thoughts as he recalled what MacDonald had said earlier that evening.

  "Megan's family is pure-blooded sithech , boy. There's no freakin' way

  the pack's go
nna accept you ... especially her! Why, you're no more

  than a Heinz-57 mutt!"

  "It's nothing, Meg," he mumbled, suppressing the heated irritation

  that simmered inside him. "Just a misunderstanding between us

  guys."

  But why did his needling bother me? He'd weathered insults worse

  than MacDonald's before. Besides, the drunken Scot was only a beta

  in the town pack. Perhaps Megan was right. Maybe the full moon

  was having a strange effect on his wolf senses.

  CHAPTER 2

  After administrating first aid to Derek's arm, Megan dug into the

  storage cabinet and found a black jogging suit along with a battered

  pair of sandals. The thought of him wandering around the cabin in

  nothing more than a blanket teased her senses. Not a good idea – at

  all. She sighed .

  "It's not the warmest clothing, but it'll do for tonight." She grinned,

  handing him the bundle. "You're lucky I keep a spare here. They're

  'one size fits most'."

  "Most, huh? I'm afraid I'll bust a seam," Derek retorted, holding the

  shirt up to his muscular chest.

  Megan swallowed hard as her sex fluttered in response. The cabin

  suddenly felt very claustrophobic and warm, definitely warm, despite

  the nighttime chill. "Well, at least try to squeeze into it after your

  shower. I won't want you to catch a cold," she replied, playfully

  wagging a finger at him. "The temperature's already dipped a few

  degrees, so I'll step outside and get some timber. You hit the shower."

  "Yes ma'am," Derek replied with a cheeky salute, heading into the

  tiny bathroom with its metallic shower stall, small sink and commode.

  Megan figured after a hot shower, Derek would collapse onto the

  mattress and be sound asleep within moments. From the weary

  expression on his face, she could tell his transformation had zapped

  his energy. The adrenaline of the night's events had subsided and,

  before long, exhaustion would set in.

  Derek was certainly a lone-wolf. No living parents or a pack,

  either. Her heart ached for him. No wonder he doesn't know how to

  preserve his strength. Megan sighed. It also explained why he didn't

  know about 'bad moons' and their effect on the sithech. She couldn't