Summer’s Wolf

Начало книги

Death.

Someone inside her parents’ house was dead.

Summer Morrison shut the front door with a thud and covered her nose and mouth with her hands. She tried not to gag. The stench of rotten flesh permeated through her hands, into her nasal passages and then coursed around her bloodstream. Her heart pounded and her stomach churned as its contents threatened to make an undesired reappearance.

Whatever was dead hadn’t been that way very long or she would have smelled the putrid rot outside on the street. Even so, to her, inside the house, it smelled like it was days decayed. Her white wolf paced back and forth inside of her. The four-legged part of her wanted to shift. She felt the dry prickle of the change start in her eyes. She blinked to clear the sensation and quelled the urge. She couldn’t succumb to that now.

In three years, her wolf’s nose had never been wrong.

She needed information but her wolf wasn’t giving it to her. Who is dead?

Читать дальше →