Series: San Francisco Wolf Pack #2
Published by Entangled Publishing on 8/25/15
Genres: Paranormal Romance
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Unmated werewolves don’t normally live past three hundred years old...and billionaire Jack MacGrath is cutting it close. Sure, he has almost everything—the respect of his peers, a mansion in San Francisco, a private jet, and fast cars. But without a mate, Jack's in trouble. Then he sees her. Gorgeous, proud...and his enemy.
Isabelle Connelly is good at hiding things from her father. Like her success as a painter, or the incredibly intense attraction she has to Jack MacGrath. After all, she's royalty and falling for anyone lesser—to say nothing of a rival pack—would be, er, unseemly. Now she must choose between her duty to her family and her pack...or her perfect fated mate.
I’m so psyched Geeks is part of Kristin Miller’s Beauty and the Werewolf blog tour. We’ve got an excerpt, a giveaway, my review…plus info on the beginning of the Series, The Werewolf Wears Prada. Enjoy!!
He had eleven Bella Nolan paintings.
Werewolf in Venice would make twelve.
And he wasn’t about to be outbid by the tiny little pixie sitting in the row across from him. She had dark hair that dropped past her shoulders and curled up at the ends. Bright green eyes lined with thick lashes. Freckles covering her plump cheeks. She was a werewolf—he could tell by the sweet and spicy smell of her—but she wasn’t from the San Francisco Wolf Pack.
He would’ve run into her by now, and he never forgot a face.
The pixie wore a thick black scarf, black heels, and a black dress that revealed the porcelain-smooth length of her legs when she crossed them. Judging from her attire, she was either headed to a funeral after the auction or stuck in a permanent state of melancholy. Or maybe she simply thought the monochromatic color would make her incognito.
Yeah, no way. With legs like that, anonymity was impossible.
As the bid tiptoed higher, reaching six hundred fifteen thousand, Jack raised his paddle with a flick of his wrist. He couldn’t care less about the money spent. He’d accumulated an estate worth billons, but even if he hadn’t, he’d go in debt to hang Werewolf in Venice on his walls.
Besides, he couldn’t take his billions with him when he died, so he might as well spend his money on something he could enjoy in his final days.
Seeing as how he was a 320-year-old werewolf who’d yet to find his Luminary—his one and only fated mate—he was weakening. Werewolves could only live about three hundred years without going through the bonding process with their Luminary. With every year that passed by, he was pushing the envelope.
He’d searched tirelessly for his mate. Scoured wolf packs throughout the country, and had come up empty-handed. Luminaries could feel the spark of connection at first touch.
He’d failed. End of discussion. End of his life.
A shaky breath ripped from his lungs.
Just then, he picked up something else in the pixie’s scent. Hints of something rich and creamy. It smelled almost like—no, it couldn’t possibly be—Guinness? Smooth and full. Bittersweet underneath. Had she drunk the beer recently? Was it still on her breath?
He couldn’t tell.
The pixie lifted her chin—a slight move, but he caught it—and raised her paddle.
Guess she was a Bella Nolan fan, too.
Without thinking twice, he rebutted.
She craned her neck to the side and glared at him, kinking one eyebrow. It was clear that she was trying to give him attitude, but she looked downright adorable. Like a puppy gearing up for battle against a more formidable dog. He couldn’t help but smile.
Sweetheart, I’m 320 years old. I’ve met and outbid enthusiastic bidders like you before.
But you’ve never met me.
Her thoughts struck him like a hammer to the temples. He hadn’t meant to project his thoughts, or for her to hear them. But now that she’d responded, he couldn’t get the sweet sound of her voice out of his head. Her tone was light and airy, like the winter wind, carrying a soft accent.
He couldn’t place it. English? Irish? Definitely European.
With a huff, the pixie redirected her attention to the front. And raised the bid again.
I can do this all day. Her lips twitched in irritation as her words pulsed through his mind. You might as well go home now. It’ll save you some embarrassment.
Exhilaration fired through his veins.
There was only one thing he loved more than a challenge: a tantalizing game of cat-and-mouse.
Keeping his eye on her, Jack bid until the price reached seven hundred fifty thousand and the room erupted in excited whispers. Pixie fidgeted in her seat, shifting her weight from one hip to the other.
Don’t overextend yourself, he projected.
Don’t worry about me. She waved her paddle. Worry about what your friends in the auction circuit are going to think when you’re outbid and lose this painting.
He bid again. Without hearing the next price.
She matched him.
A smirk curled the corner of his lips as he met her eyes. Fiery determination burned in those emerald depths. Her eyes stunned him, twinkling bright and holding him captive. But not enough to miss the price of the painting rise near a million.
He winked. And then lifted the paddle slowly.
You know sometimes when a mood strikes and all you want to read is a quick, fun romance? Well, I was totally hankering for that when I picked up Beauty and the Werewolf, and it really hit the spot. Sweet romance, only a little bit of drama, and two characters meant to be together. Sigh.
Isabelle is the only child of the Irish wolf pack and fated to be the alpha…and soon. Her dad is dying and before he takes his last breath, she’s determined to earn his approval. Her passion is painting, and while she’s a master at it, it’s a side of her dear old dad discouraged from the get-go. So she adopted an alias and pursued her art in secret, which turned out to be a lucrative venture. Her goal is to track down all her masterpieces (werewolves in various settings), buy them, and put them on display so her father might see at last that painting is a part of who she is and won’t affect her ability to lead the pack when he’s gone.
It just so happens Jack is a devoted admirer of Isabelle’s work and isn’t about to let her outbid him for one of her masterpieces. Fun fact about Jack: he’s dying. In this particular werewolf world, if a werewolf doesn’t find his mate within a certain time, he’ll kick the can, and that’s exactly where Jack is. He’s been surviving on adrenaline rushes, which apparently keeps the ol’ werewolf ticker going, but the moment he touches Isabelle, he knows she’s the one. Unfortunately, Isabelle isn’t so easily convinced. Worse than that, Jack is from the San Francisco McGrath pack, basically the dirtbag werewolves the Ireland pack loves to hate.
I liked both Isabelle and Jack. Isabelle didn’t hold on to her prejudices too long, and Jack was totally straight up that he wanted Isabelle, yet he wasn’t pushy about it. He’d spent his life doing everything he could to ditch the stigma of the McGrath name, and he was a total gentleman. Gentlewolf? They were a good match and both just really decent people who needed to be together. If you’re looking for a speedy, sweet yet steamy, fated werewolf read, Beauty and the Werewolf is the one to pick up.
Also in the San Francisco Wolf Pack series…
Melina Rosenthal worships at the altar of all things fashion. Her dream is to work for the crème de la crème fashion magazine, Eclipse, and she’ll do much anything to get there. Even fixing up the image of a gorgeous, sexy public figure who’s all playboy, all the time. Even if he’s the guy who broke her heart a year ago…
Even if Hayden Dean is a werewolf.
Since his father’s death, Hayden’s the heir apparent to the San Francisco Wolf Pack—well, once he settles down. Hayden isn’t interested in giving up his partying ways, except he’s pretty sure he’s found his fated mate, and the fact that she’s a non-shifter is bad news. Now he must find a compromise between the traditions of his wolf world and his certainty that Melina is his…before fate (or another werewolf) bites them both in the butt.
About Kristin Miller
New York Times and USA Today best-selling author Kristin Miller writes sweet and sassy contemporary romance, romantic suspense, and paranormal romance of all varieties. Kristin has degrees in psychology, English, and education, and taught high school and middle school English before crossing over to a career in writing. She lives in Northern California with her alpha male husband and their two children. She loves chocolate way more than she should and the gym less. You can usually find her in the corner of a coffee shop, laptop in front of her and mocha in hand, using the guests around her as fuel for her next book.