Book 4 in the Misfit Shifters series and sequel to Nate
Free Spirit Thursday, a shifter with no recollection of his past beyond being raised in a monastery, lands in the Bluebird Valley Preserve with no further motivation than assisting others through massage therapy and meditation. Disbelieving a leopard exists inside him and unable to change into such a beast, he disregards the speculation that he’s truly a shifter. To do otherwise would potentially go against all the pacifist teachings he’d taken to heart.
Damien, struggling with a sudden change in temperament from his inner wolf, searches for a way to mollify the suddenly aggressive and demanding beast before he loses complete control. If he can’t rein in his wolf, their future consists of banishment or, even worse, a death sentence. Just as he reaches his wit’s end, Damien stumbles across the most unusual shifter around, who just might hold the answer to soothing his wolf once and for all.
When a deadly threat forces Thursday’s leopard to the fore, it sends him into a tailspin, unable to cope with the realization of his true genetics and his traumatic past, as the violent cat goes against everything he’d come to believe. It’s up to Damien to create a bridge between the two differing entities. Failure to do so means the loss of so much more than Damien could ever imagine.
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Damien peered out his front window, not completely surprised to find Thursday back in the tree, hanging upside down, as he’d done for the past couple of days. The circumstances, though, caused him to blink -- twice.
Snow fell at a rapid clip, covering the ground quickly while making visibility difficult any more than a few feet away. A stiff gust of wind swirled the white stuff around before allowing it to fall straight once again.
No way could that silly robe keep him warm in this weather. For sure not the sandals. A ping of consciousness prodded Damien to do something. He’s got a perfectly good cabin. Not our fault he doesn’t have the common sense of a goose -- or a dodo bird.
Are you sure he’s not frozen to death on that limb? his wolf asked with a hint of concern.
“Well, hell.”
The pertinent question from his animal half spurred Damien into action. He grabbed his thick coat from the hook on the door, slid on his heavy boots, and exited his warm home. Stepping into the winter mess, he shivered and pulled his coat tighter around him. His beast might enjoy a romp in the snow now and again, but personally, he’d be much happier in the warm, toasty sunshine of summer.
Tiny ice crystals had formed on Thursday’s eyelids. His face could only be called rosy from the cold and biting wind. At least the ninny wore gloves. From what he could see of Thursday’s feet, his toes, devoid of socks, were leaning toward deep red hue.
“Hey, Thursday. In case you didn’t notice, it’s snowing like gangbusters and its damn cold out here. Why don’t you give up your tree meditation for the time being and considering taking it inside?”
“Adversity must not deter one from reaching for enlightenment and inspiration.” His teeth began to chatter.
“Oh, good grief. You won’t have to worry about any of those things if you freeze to death out here hanging around like a demented bat.” Damien threw his hands up in the air in frustration at the stubbornness Thursday presented.
He’s going to be an ice crystal bat real soon, his inner wolf added. Hit him with a hammer and he’ll fracture into dozens of pieces.
That’s helpful. Not, Damien replied. He planted his hands on his hips and glared at Thursday. “Here’s the deal, buddy. You get down from there right now or I’ll drag you out of that tree.”
Thursday’s eyes opened, revealing the yellowish-amber irises, which pinned his gaze. “Discipline and the ability to control one’s mind leads to enlightenment, wisdom, and eventual true happiness.”
“Yeah, well, stupidity gets one frostbite out here and then you’ll wish you’d tapped into that wisdom factor a bit harder.” Damien stepped to the side and appraised Thursday’s position, with his lower legs crossed over the large tree limb. Of course I have to do this the hard way. He latched onto a lower branch and hauled himself up to the same one Thursday hung off of. He grabbed Thursday’s top foot, and yanked upwards. He shoved it to the other side of the branch, and yanked on the closest leg before Thursday could recover. He glimpsed white muscular white thighs and a nicely curved buttock before Thursday missed his attempted grab, and toppled into the fresh powder below.
Before Thursday could protest, Damien jumped down, grabbed him by the collar of his robe, yanked him to his feet, marched him to the small cabin porch, opened the door, and shoved him inside.
Thursday spun and appraised Damien, then lifted his chin. “Assistance shouldn’t be insisted upon when it’s not needed.” He ruined the effect with a hard shiver.
“Yeah, well. A thank you might have been nice.” He shut the door firmly behind him and flipped the lock before removing his boots. After slipping off his heavy coat, he returned it to the hook and eyed his guest.
“You are correct. There’s no excuse for lack of manners. I appreciate your timely aid.”
Damien rolled his eyes at the flowery statement of gratitude. “You’re welcome. Now, before you catch pneumonia, you might want to get out of that wet robe.”
Thursday shot him a droll stare. “I will return to my cabin.”
“Ain’t happening,” Damien insisted. “First of all, I seem to have a single protective gene that sprang up out of nowhere and that appears to be centered on preventing you from freezing to death due to lack of common sense.”
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