First, welcome to HOT Teasers! My name is Emma and I’ll be your host for today.
I’m delighted to have you here and looking forward to finding out about your work, so without further ado, let’s get started!
How did you become a writer?
By being a reader. I have loved reading books since forever! Oftentimes, after a story ended I would think about the characters lives afterwards. Soon, my head was filled with unique characters that wanted me to tell their story. Around the time my youngest was born, I decided to write a novel. Late at night I wrote and the sense of accomplishment I felt when I reached the end, was huge. That novel ended up being rejected by a publisher, but it was proof to me that I could do it if I kept at it.
What’s today’s story Bewitching the Wolf about?
Alice Humphreys has poured her heart and soul into creating a magical B&B where guests experience their fantasy vacation in their dreams. When Brodie MacEwan arrives looking for a room, she gives him his choice of the adventure room, the relaxation room or the romance room. There is something all too predatory about the Scotsman and he makes her body tingle in places it shouldn’t!
Brodie has been sent to investigate the mysterious death of his uncle. He never expects to discover his mate in his dreams. But is the illusion real? As he moves closer to identifying the woman his soul is bound to, he must deal with a grumpy leprechaun, a ghostly terrier, bumps in the night, and musical bedrooms. Any other wolf shifter would turn tail and run, but Brodie never gives up when he’s in pursuit and never when the stakes are so high!
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She opened her eyes and, with delight, recognized her favorite dream scene. She was at a day spa for the rich and fabulously magical. Touching her face, she was pleased to feel the mudpack there. Her hair was wrapped in a towel, and her body, too.
“Go through that door,” a disembodied voice said. “Your masseuse is waiting for you.”
Alice didn’t bother answering. She opened the door and walked into a tropical paradise. Birds flittered from tree to tree and water trickled over rocks in a stream. There was no one in the room, which surprised her, but she walked over to the massage table and climbed on.
The sounds of nature worked their magic and she rested her eyes. The sound of a door opened and closed softly.
“Good day to you. My name’s Brodie and I’m here to give you a massage it seems.” The Scottish burr was familiar.
Alice’s eyes flew open to see sexy gray eyes twinkling down at her. She squeezed her eyes shut, praying the mud mask and towel disguised her enough. She couldn’t talk either. He’d recognize her voice.
How had Brodie MacEwan entered her dreamscape?
He took her arm, his fingers sliding down to her wrist. “Your pulse is galloping,” he said softly. “There’s no need for that. This is a place to relax. Just leave it to me.”
Alice nearly choked. There was absolutely no way she could relax with this man’s fingers on her body.
How had this happened? Better yet, how could she break the dream?
“I’m going to use this lovely oil. I’ll start with your feet.” Brodie’s voice rumbled along her nerve endings like a symphony.
Alice managed to squeak out a sound, her brain frantically trying to recall how to interrupt a dream sequence without causing damage to those inside. The problem was that she didn’t know if she had conjured Brodie into her dream or if he had hijacked his way onto her dream waves.
Then a pair of hands took her foot and began to knead the muscles, working the oil into the skin. Alice groaned in ecstasy.
“You have beautiful feet. Strong with a delicate arch.” His fingers rubbed each of her toes, sending ripples of delight along her spine.
She slit open her eyes enough to see him bent over her toes. She would never have called her feet her best feature, but if he wanted to play footsie, who was she to argue.
His head turned and she clamped her eyes shut again. His hands moved up to her calves.
“Relax,” he said. You’re strung too tight.” He massaged warm oil into her skin, eliciting a moan of delight from her. He chuckled. “You like that do you?”
Alice bit down on her lip. The feel of his hands on her skin made thinking difficult.
He was working his way around her knees when he spoke again. “Would you tell me your name?”
Alice opened her mouth and then closed it. She shook her head. Brodie sighed, the sound heavy in the tropical atmosphere.
“Does not matter,” he said, his Scottish accent souding thicker to her. “You carry my brand. Our lives, like the Celtic knot, are entwined.”
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