Table Of ContentPraise for New York Times bestselling author Christine Warren
Born to be Wild “Warren packs in lots of action and sexy sizzle.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews
“Incredible.”
—All About Romance
“Another good addition to The Others series.”
—Romance Junkies
“[A] sexy, engaging world…will leave you begging for more!”
—New York Times bestselling author Cheyenne McCray Big Bad Wolf “In this
world…there’s no shortage of sexy sizzle.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews
“Another hot and spicy novel from a master of paranormal romance.”
—Night Owl Romance
“Ms. Warren gives readers action and danger around each turn, sizzling
romance, and humor to lighten each scene. Big Bad Wolf is a must-read.”
—Darque Reviews
You’re So Vein “Filled with supernatural danger, excitement, and
sarcastic humor.”
—Darque Reviews
“Five stars. This is an exciting, sexy book.”
—Affaire de Coeur
“The sparks do fly!”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews
One Bite with a Stranger “Christine Warren has masterfully
pulled together vampires, shape shifters, demons, and many
‘Others’ to create a tantalizing world of dark fantasies come to
life. Way to go, Warren!”
—Night Owl Romance
“A sinful treat.”
—Romance Junkies
“Hot fun and great sizzle.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews
“A hot, hot novel.”
—A Romance Review
Walk on the Wild Side “A seductive tale with strong chemistry,
roiling emotions, steamy romance, and supernatural action. The
fast-moving plot…will keep the readers’ attention riveted through
every page, and have them eagerly watching for the next
installment.”
—Darque Reviews
Howl at the Moon “Howl at the Moon will tug at a wide range of
emotions from beginning to end…Engaging banter, a strong
emotional connection, and steamy love scenes. This talented
author delivers real emotion which results in delightful
interactions…and the realistic dialogue is stimulating. Christine
Warren knows how to write a winner!”
—Romance Junkies
The Demon You Know “Explodes with sexy, devilish fun,
exploring the further adventures of The Others. With a number
of the gang from previous books back, there’s an immediate
familiarity about this world that makes it easy to dive right into.
Warren’s storytelling style makes these books remarkably
entertaining.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews (4½ stars) She’s No Faerie Princess
“Christine Warren has penned a story rich in fantastic characters and
spellbinding plots.”
—Fallen Angel Reviews
Wolf at the Door “This book is a fire-starter…a fast-paced,
adrenaline-and hormonally-charged tale. The writing is fluid and
fun, and makes the characters all take on life-like characteristics.”
—Romance Reader at Heart
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Preview: Wolf at the Door
Preview: She’s No Faerie Princess
Preview: The Demon You Know
Preview: Howl at the Moon
Preview: Walk on the Wild Side
Preview: One Bite with a Stranger
Preview: You’re So Vein
Preview: Big Bad Wolf
Preview: Born to be Wild
One
“Danice Carter, Esquire. Just the woman I wanted to see.”
“Well, take a good, long look then, because you’ve got about twenty-seven
seconds before I pull open a window and fling myself out.”
Stocking feet slapped across the chilly marble in front of the sixteenth-floor
elevators, then onto plush tweed carpet as Danice stalked toward her office. She
hadn’t had a particularly pleasant afternoon.
Ignoring the danger signs, Celia turned to follow.
“How did things go with Wilkinson’s team?”
Danice shoved open her office door and launched her soft-sided briefcase
toward the back wall with the approximate force of an anti-aircraft missile.
“Peachy. Their client has decided that in addition to causing the collapse of his
business, Henry Hollister and Grissom Holdings are also responsible for the
boom in the Chinese economy, the global recession, the greenhouse effect, and
unrest in the Middle East.”
“Ah.”
“They’ve adjusted their demands for the settlement accordingly. I believe
the offer they presented me contained language about me giving lap dances in
the hall of Satan while they drink the blood of all of Grissom’s senior corporate
officers from a golden chalice.” She used one of the shoes in her hand to gesture
toward her briefcase. “The papers are in there. Feel free to go over them and tell
me if I’m wrong.”
“I’ll get right on that.” Celia pursed her lips and took a seat in front of
Danice’s desk while the other woman flung herself inelegantly into the leather
executive’s chair behind it. “Do you want me to call around and see if I can find
you pasties and a G-string?”
Danice glared at her. “You giving up your career as a paralegal for a future
in stand-up comedy?”
“Maybe. I like to keep my options open.” Celia tilted her head and widened
her eyes ingenuously. “Did you offer up your sense of humor as a sacrifice to
pacify the Wilkinson camp?”
“No, I dropped it on the corner of Lexington and Fifty-first, along with my
afternoon latte and the heel of my three-hundred-dollar Kate Spade pump.”
Scowling, Danice wound up like a starting pitcher and threw her shoe toward the
front wall, savoring the satisfying thunk of leather on drywall. If only she’d
stuck with softball as a teenager, maybe she could have had the satisfaction of
leaving a dent. “If only that had been Wilkinson’s fat head.”
“Mm, I hear clients don’t appreciate being assaulted by legal representation.
They might even file suit.”
“Ha. Ha.”
“Damn, girl, you need to lighten up.”
Danice sighed and dropped her head to the back of her chair. “I’ll put that on
my list. Right after world peace and saving the whales.” She shifted her gaze to
Celia. “What was the straw you had for me?”
“Straw?”
“When I came off the elevator, you said you’d been looking for me. I
assume you have a straw for my back?”
Celia grinned and took in her boss’s sleek, camel-colored sheath dress. “The
color’s right, but there’s something about the face that doesn’t fit the picture.”
“Thank God for that, at least. I don’t have time for a nose job.” Bracing her
hands on the arms of her chair, Danice pushed herself upright and leaned her
elbows on her desk. “You’ve got something for me?”
Celia offered up a slim brown folder. “This.”
Danice flipped open the cover and frowned down at a short stack of papers
that, at first glance, didn’t ring any bells with her. “Any clue what it’s about?”
“No, but it came down from on high. Ms. Eberhart brought it to me herself
just after lunch.”
“Really?” That actually made Danice take notice. Her brows lifted, and she
looked down at the papers with renewed interest. “If it came via Patrice
Eberhart, I’m assuming the responsible heavenly throne belongs to Mr. Yorke?”
“You opened the folder.” Celia shrugged. “At this point, you now officially
know more than I do. I was told to see that you got the folder as soon as you got
back to the office. My work here is done.”
“You wish, Tonto. What did Ms. Eberhart tell you when she gave this to
you?”
“Exactly what I just told you. To make sure you got that as soon as you got
in. And to buzz her so she’d know you were back.”
Danice rolled her eyes and reached for her telephone. “See, that last part was
what I really wanted to know. I’ll buzz her myself.”
“I was getting to it. You’re always rushing me,” Celia teased as she rose.
“You have notes for me from this Wilkinson meeting?”
Danice nodded toward the window. “In my briefcase.”
Danice nodded toward the window. “In my briefcase.”
“Okay. Thanks, boss.”
Slim, creamed-coffee fingers punched in an internal dialing code then tapped
restlessly on the desk while Danice waited for an answer.
“Mr. Yorke’s office. How may I help you?”
“Ms. Eberhart, this is Danice Carter. I’ve just returned from an outside
meeting, and my paralegal gave me a message that you might need something
from me.”
The crisp, schoolmistress voice responded promptly. “Ms. Carter. I assume
that you have received the file I left with Ms. Alta.”
“Yes, Celia did give me a file, though I haven’t reviewed it yet. As I said,
I’m just back to the office.”
“Yes. I shouldn’t worry. Mr. Yorke has asked me to invite you up so that he
can provide you with the background for this particular assignment. I’m certain
your review of the provided materials will be more productive after you’ve
talked with Mr. Yorke.”
Danice felt her eyebrows shoot up and decided it was a good thing that her
Big Boss’s assistant couldn’t see her face at the moment. It might not instill the
right kind of confidence if it were known she’d nearly passed out at the news
that one of the firm’s senior partners had requested a meeting with her.
Matthew Yorke IV wasn’t a senior partner; he was the senior partner, and
the namesake of one of the prestigious old firm’s founders. The closest she’d
ever come to speaking with him during her five years working for him had been
when she’d excused herself as she walked in front of him at last year’s company
holiday party.
“Of course,” she said, carefully keeping the shock out of her voice. “I’d be
happy to make time for Mr. Yorke. When would he like to set up a meeting?”
“Actually, Mr. Yorke would like for you to come up now.” There was a
short, significant pause. “If you’re available.”
Danice stifled the urge to laugh. Not because the comment was funny, but
because it was ridiculous. What did the woman expect her to say? That she’d
check her calendar and get back to her? “Of course. I’ll be right up.”
Hanging up, Danice flipped the folder in front of her closed and pushed to
her feet. Then she swore.
“Celia!”
A minute later, the paralegal’s head appeared in the door. “You rang?”
Danice nodded and dropped back in her chair. She opened her bottom desk
drawer to pull out the makeup bag and mirror she kept there for emergencies. “I
need shoes.”
“Shoes?”
