Marie Treanor

Loving the Wolf is available now from Changeling Press.
http://www.changelingpress.com
Part One of City of the Damned...
In the depths of nuclear winter, Lara, a self-sufficient female cop, leaves the safety of her Dome City and travels north in search of her missing brother. His trail evaporates in an open, ravaged city where the buildings are in ruin and the people burn whatever they can find to keep warm. There is no law, people mug and kill for food, and packs of dogs and wolves roam the streets.

To Lara it is hell itself, until she discovers it is a very special place where a particular cocktail of radiation poisoning has caused strange genetic mutations – like Will, the seductive stranger who is so different that even his fellow werewolves (the feared “lupi”) have rejected him.

But Will has many plans: to recover leadership of the werewolves; to rebuild his city; to gain acceptance of the lupi as the superior beings they can become - and to make Lara his life mate.

Read Reviews
Read Excerpts

Reviews:

"This is a highly sensual story, with the sexual tension running high. The love scenes are highly emotional and sizzling." - 5 hearts, Valerie, Love Romances and More

"Ms. Treanor takes a determined heroine and a rare werewolf and blends chemistry that soars." - 5 hearts, Linda L, The Romance Studio

"Of how many books can the reader say: she became so caught up in the story immediately she forgot she was reading and not living the story? This reviewer can remember very few, but this one is definitely on that list. Loving the Wolf is hot from Step One, and there’s no turning back! Prepare to be scorched, alarmed, illuminated, and fired up! Marie Treanor writes as if she’s reading my mind. I chose this particular book because of its futuristic, post-apocalyptic setting, but I found much more than I bargained for, and Ms. Treanor immediately jumped onto my list of authors I MUST READ! This book is a keeper. Ms. Treanor, please do not cease writing!" - 5 kisses, Frost, Two Lips Reviews

"Loving the Wolf is a wonderfully told werewolf tale that demands to be read in one sitting. Fast paced and smoothly flowing, this is a well written story you’ll not want to miss. Lara and Will are strong characters that grab a piece of your heart from the time they meet. Marie Treanor has shared a sexy and passionate story that effortlessly shines through the war torn world it is set in." - 4 nymphs, Water Nymph, Literary Nymphs

"Loving the Wolf is an absolutely terrific story of tolerance and understanding. Many of the issues faced by the main characters can be translated into problems that society faces today. The sex scenes are smoking hot and add a stroke of eroticism to this touching story. Ms. Treanor pens a tale of love found where it is least expected that really blew me away." - 4 cups, Susan White, Coffee Time Romance

"This was a highly sensual passionate novel. Will set out to get Lara and plays on her obvious desire for him to get her. The two together steamed up the pages in some of the most beautiful scenes written. These two obviously belonged together. Will has a higher goal in mind for them and with the two combined they will make a difference in this world shattered by war. Want to make your summer truly steamy? Marie Treanor and her Loving the Wolf can help you out." - 4 1/2 stars, Elise Lyn, eCataromance

"This book is awesome and the futuristic setting is wonderful. Lara is the tough kick butt heroine who sets out to find her brother no matter what the price. Will is the sexy hero who wants to reclaim what he has lost and make Lara his mate. The adventure is never ending and readers will love all the action. The heat is on with the sensual love scenes. Marie Treanor has done a great job of penning a futuristic tale with a paranormal twist." - 4 ribbons, Angel Brewer, Romance Junkies

Excerpts:

Here's the opening scene...A hotter one follows. Just scroll down

      Lara knew he was watching her.
      She couldn’t see him, and she refused to turn and look, but still she knew. The tiny hairs at the back of her neck stood up. Her scalp tingled, and all her senses sprang to full alert. All except hearing, which was still being battered into submission by the raucous music shaking the whole building. She’d been wary enough entering this weird club in the first place, but she had been a cop back at the Dome long enough to trust her instincts, which positively shrieked at her now to take great, great care.
      Poised for any action necessary, she forced her foot to continue tapping out the music’s relentless beat. She began a wide sweep with her eyes, taking in the heaving mass of gyrating bodies directly in front of her. Beyond them, on a raised and precariously vibrating stage, was the band – a very small collection of wild and unkempt individuals to be responsible for such a huge noise.
      Lara’s eyes lifted to the high rafters under the crumbling roof, from which hung large braziers that scattered leaping flame lights and shadows across the walls and the faces below. Half way up to the ceiling, a platform ran the whole way around the hall, making a mezzanine floor round which several people prowled. Some leaned there against a very temporary-looking grill in order to gaze greedily down at the sweating dancers, as if searching for prey – which they probably were. Of one kind or another.
      But the eyes observing her weren’t up there. They were – directly behind.
Spinning on her heel, her fist clenched and ready, she caught a flash of silver light, the tiniest, blurred glimpse of a swiftly moving figure, before another man blocked her view by standing mere inches in front of her.
       “Hey, looking for someone?” the obstruction asked, grinning. He shouted expertly over the din of the music, without appearing to use excessive effort. He was big, chunky, mostly muscle. Yet his smile reminded Lara of a snake.
      “Actually, yes,” she murmured, peering past him.
      There he is. A tall young man with long hair that glinted peculiarly silver in the club’s weird light. There’s my man. He made no effort to hide himself now, which made her wonder if he ever had. His face looked pale in the strange, flickering light, with heavily hooded eyes and deeply shadowed hollows beneath rather delicate cheek bones. He wore a light-colored leather jacket, maybe grey, and jeans that stretched tight across his thighs and hips. He looked lean and dangerously hungry. With his shoulder against a concrete pillar, he gazed directly at her.
      He was certainly worth gazing back at. The words lithe, predatory and raw crossed Lara’s mind. So did beautiful, but she managed to squash that one before it fully surfaced.
      “Anyone in particular?” enquired the chunky snake annoyingly. A group of young people wandered past, blocking Lara’s view, and reluctantly she shifted her attention back to her interlocutor
      “Very particular,” she returned. She thought he was staff. Some kind of bouncer. Either way, he gave off the air of knowing.
      He smiled again. “Perhaps I can introduce you. I know several very nice – and not so nice – men who want to meet you.”
      “They’re not my kind,” Lara said impatiently. The snake, clearly, was the club pimp. In the Dome, she’d already have arrested him. Here she just looked beyond him once more, but the man with silver hair had gone. A pang of disappointment twisted through her stomach. Oh well, interest stirred and interest died. It wasn’t as if she was prepared to pursue it anyway. But hell, it had been nice to look.
      “Wow!” said the snake. “Swift decision-making, I like that! Well then, what is your kind? Whatever it is, I can help. A young boy? An older woman? A vampire to suck your blood? Or a willing man who’ll let you suck his? A werewolf to…”
      “A werewolf?” Lara interrupted, staring at him. “For God sake, what sort of perverts do you encourage here?”
      “All sorts,” the snake replied frankly. “Werewolves are particularly popular. They can fuck all night. And baby, I mean all night. So if you change your mind, just let me know.”
      A little shiver ran down Lara’s spine. His coarse words struck an unexpected chord in her, an ache of secret loneliness and frustration, a sudden rush of lust not dissociated from the silver-haired young man. Now him she probably wouldn’t mind at all fucking her all night. But some arsehole who thought he was a werewolf…? Or, even worse, some other arsehole who imagined women wanted him to be a werewolf! Dear God, she’d rather cross her legs and take a vow of celibacy.

      He emerged from nowhere. One moment she saw only a sea of swaying, writhing bodies, reluctantly parting to let her through, the next, he stood in front of her, quite still. The silver blond hair fell forward over his forehead, stirring faintly with the motion of the dancers.
      Lara’s hand, half-way up to push at the next shoulder, paused in mid-air. Shadows from the braziers above flickered crazily across his lean face, emphasizing the dark hollows below his cheek bones. His eyes, strangely light, reflective eyes, glinted orange in the flaring light. They gazed straight down into hers, paralyzing her.
      Oh yes, interest definitely stirred. He had something, some power of personality or sexual magnetism. He hadn’t even spoken to her and yet she felt a rush of moisture between her legs. Too long without a man, Lara…
      Slowly, he reached up towards her poised hand. Shocked at last out of her paralysis, Lara quickly balled it into a fist. But his movement changed, suddenly quickened, so that before she could even twitch in defense, his big hand closed over her knuckles.
      His touch was electric. Astonishment prevented her even trying to fight back, and in fact there was nothing aggressive about his grip. It was firm, but light, allowing her to escape easily if she wanted to. But curiosity – yes, truly, curiosity – kept her still. As a sop to her pride, she lifted one interrogative eyebrow at him. She meant it to be haughty, though she doubted it turned out that way for in response his lips – full, expressive lips - only curved upwards as if she had granted some kind of permission. He lifted his other hand, held out towards her, palm upwards. Slowly, without really meaning to, Lara laid her own free hand in it.
      This time, he didn’t smile. Holding both her hands, he took two steps backward, drawing her with him into a larger space. The gyrating dancers immediately closed in around them. The heat from their bodies invaded Lara’s. She could smell their sweat. Still holding her gaze, the silver-haired man lifted his arms loosely around her waist. Since he hadn’t released her hands, they too were carried behind her body and held in the small of her back until she stood in his arms, breast to breast, almost but not quite touching.
      In an instant, she had let down her guard to a stranger – and one she had sensed instinctively as dangerous before she had even seen him. And now she stood totally vulnerable in his hold. Worse, she didn’t care. It actually excited her to be held like that, although if anyone had even suggested such a thing even five minutes ago, she would probably have either laughed them to scorn or punched them. Yet in this moment, while the loud, tuneless music beat through her, her nipples stretched out to this stranger, desperate for even the slightest brushing touch. The pit of her stomach ached with sudden, wild need, churning her to her core. Yet still he only watched her, silently.
      Then, slowly, he began to sway to the rhythm, and she could only follow him, her heart thundering in her suddenly constricted chest.
      Silently, and unconventionally – at least where Lara came from – he had asked her to dance. A dance like no other. She didn’t understand the rules, if there were any, but she did grasp the mating ritual feel of it and her body’s response was overwhelming.
      Part of her knew she should stop this now before it got any further. But some other, long-suppressed and very needy part, was desperate to keep up this level of arousal, if only to see just how high it would go before he blew it with some crass comment or gross act.
      But there was nothing, crass about this, nothing gross. Blatantly sexual, yes - yet so hypnotic that she felt curiously, sweetly powerless. When his chest touched her pebble-hard nipples, the pleasure reverberated through her whole body, causing a new flood of moisture to cascade down her leg. Lara almost moaned aloud. Instead, because she could, she moved against him, brushing her breasts against his chest. It felt so good… She leaned closer until her hips fitted into his. Then she did gasp, for his erection was rock hard. And huge. Its heat pressed over her pubic bone and across her stomach.
      Still in rhythm with the music, he moved it against her. She could feel its outline, even its stiff, ribbed veins, just as if it were naked against her skin. He lifted her slightly upward till only the tips of her toes touched the floor, molding her body into his. His knee brushed between her legs, made room for his cock to nestle. Now when he gyrated against her, it actually stirred her clitoris. The pleasure was so sharp that she took fright at last. This was ridiculous! She was being seduced by a stranger who hadn’t even troubled to speak to her!