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“Feeling kinky, are we?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Give me a kiss, kitty-cat.”
Kelly looped her arms around his neck, and gave him a deep, wet kiss.
“You know, I’ve never seen a cat-woman before. How does this shifting thing work?”
“You want to see me change?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure? You won’t freak out?”
“Scout’s honour.”
Kelly detangled from him and sat up straight. It felt awkward to reveal her true nature under Andi’s stare. What the heck. The cards were all out and there was nothing left to be ashamed about. Her inner cat got excited as she willed herself to shift. It pounced, feeling as if it had jumped out of her skin as she shifted. Her bones creaked, blood rushed, heart pounded. At the same time, she felt free.
Andi’s eyes widened as he watched her transformation. She waited for any sign of revulsion, but she didn’t see it. He was in awe. Mesmerised. “I have to say it, this is fascinating.” He scrambled up and caressed her fur. His touch felt good, especially when he petted under her chin. Kelly couldn’t help purring—cat weakness. “What kind of cat are you? Snow lynx? Your fur is so soft. You’re so pretty, liebchen.”
“Really?”
He gasped. “I can hear you in my mind too. How did you do that?”
“Telepathic. Mind-speak. Whatever you c
all it. This is the way we communicate to each other when we’re in our animal form.”
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Andi hugged her, ruffling her fur. “Don’t shift back yet. I’d like to pet you for a while. Do you know I’m a cat person?”
“You don’t say.” Kelly gave him a nice, long wet lick on his face.
Andi laughed. “Nice kitty.”
Coming Soon from Total-E-Bound Publishing:
Savannah’s Men
Lizzie Lynn Lee
Released 6th September 2013
Excerpt
Chapter One
Panther shifters and Italian. Savannah Salander couldn’t think of anything more dangerous than a combination of the two. She saw three of them unloading their luggage from their boat. They were triplets and, at six feet five, they were fine male specimens, with perfectly built bodies, broad chests, tanned complexions, raven hair and ruggedly handsome faces—the brothers were every woman’s dirty fantasy. Any one of them would make a perfect souler—dragon’s mate—on his own. But there were three of them. She smelt trouble already. Big time.
A cool breeze surged past her, teasing her long hair that she’d tied into a ponytail. The weather was seventy degrees, though she was feeling a little bit cool as she climbed down from her Hummer and out to the deck. Only the one boat was docked today in Atlantica Bay’s marina, and it was carrying the triplets from St Croix.
She caught the gaze of one of them and immediately the air thinned around her. Her heartbeat started to accelerate and her pussy clenched. The man fixed his stare on her. Hypnotic. Predatory. A true hunter. He possessed a pair of hazel eyes that burned like molten bronze. His silky black hair draped over his shoulders and his intricate tribal tattoo peeked under his short-sleeved T-shirt. A wicked smile curled at the corners of his lips when Savannah approached him.
Wow. Just wow.
She cleared her throat. “Are you guys the Cattaneos?”
“That would be correct, pretty lady,” he answered. His speech was almost without trace of accent, and he sounded highly cultured. His voice was deep, seductively throaty—a signature macho male voice like she’d heard on commercials. “And you are?”
