Fantasy Fiction: To Tempt the Wolf by Terry Spear

Book Description:

In this third in the series, wildlife photographer Tessa Anderson must prove her brother innocent of murder charges. But when she discovers a gorgeous naked man barely alive on her beach, she's got a new world of troubles to deal with, not least of which is how he affects her with just a look, a touch, or a whispered word.

Hunter Greymore is a lupus garou, a grey werewolf. Hoping to keep a low profile at Tessa's cabin on the coast, he's drawn into her life—and into her bed. His animal instincts war with his human half, but in the end, the only thing he can do about this fascinating, adorable woman is to leave her forever —unless she becomes one of them.

Other Links:

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Author Bio:

A retired lieutenant colonel in the U.S. Army Reserves, Terry Spear has an MBA from Monmouth University. An eclectic writer, she dabbles in the paranormal, urban fantasy romance, and also writes medieval historical romance and true life stories for both teen and adult audiences. Her Heart of the Wolf that kicked off the werewolf romantic suspense where the world is so real, reviewers have remarked that it feels the shape shifters truly live among us, was named as Publishers Weekly's Best Books of the Year, only 5 named in that category last year! http://www.terryspear.com/

Excerpt:

If an ice storm knocked out the electricity, she would
be in a world of hurt. A quick walk on the beach to
gather driftwood for a fire would have to suffice. She
shouldn’t have put it off so long, but all she had thought
of lately was how to get her brother cleared of the
charges. She needed a new lawyer. Someone who was
a lot more determined. And a new private eye, someone
who would find something that would help Michael,
instead of just running up a bill.

After locking the back door—although normally
she wouldn’t have bothered, but she couldn’t shake
the feeling that someone was watching the place—she
traversed the narrow and steep path through the woods
and boulders down to the small sandy beach below.

From one of the mills up north, lumber floating on
the current piled up on the beach, littering it. No sense
letting the wood go to waste. She shoved some over on
its side and considered how wet it was. Very wet. All
of it would take too long to dry. But if she didn’t hurry
and the rain began, it wouldn’t matter what she gathered—
the wood would all be too wet to burn.

She trudged through piles of seaweed—hating the
smell and unsightly mess it made as the storms churned
it up on the beach—and made her way around a cluster
of boulders where she spied a stack of wood. Far enough
from the tidewater, it would have had more time to dry.

Skirting around to the other side, she figured the
timber would be the driest there. But what she saw next
made her gasp and her heart nearly quit beating.

The body of a veritable Greek god lay naked on his
stomach, his skin, slightly blue, stretched over tightly
toned muscles, his dark, wet hair draped across his face,
his eyes sealed shut.

Not dead. Please, don’t be dead.