White Wolf 2: The Call Of A Soul (2012) - Plot & Excerpts
All Mike had to do was get within spitting distance and she was a goner. Lordy, the man oozed potent pheromones. She didn’t know what made her more fuzzy—his mouthwatering, tousled, drop-dead sexiness, or that since he’d stepped into the clinic, everything had gone Stepford wives haywire, or that the news about his birth mother had drop-kicked her into some alternate universe. Nah. It was that run to the bus stop. After the first few seconds of him sprinting—though that definitely wasn’t the word to describe his blurred motion—she’d had to close her eyes. Not because of an unsteady gait; no, his great bounding feet-together leaps were smooth and effortless. He hadn’t even been breathing hard when he dusted her off and straightened her coat. The magnificent glory of his wolf-beast power had her drunk. Could he shift? White wolves couldn’t. She knew that much from her brother. In a way, they were both in the same muddled boat about their heritages.
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