Turning Wild: Aesir Shifters BBW Romance, #1
By Erika Masten
3.5/5
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About this ebook
Drawn suddenly and violently into a world of shifters hiding among humans, Holly is learning that there’s more than one type of were to beware of. One is a threat to her life, another to her heart….
Curvy girl Holly Parker’s life has become a series of simple choices that somehow change the course of her entire future. Taking a shortcut home puts her on a collision course with a maniac who is not what he seems. Keeping her mouth shut about her attacker's fur and fangs lands her a job with a covert agency that tracks and exterminates supernaturals preying on their human neighbors. And now her decision to rely on her intimidatingly sexy neighbor, Dustin Berg, for protection when her wolfish stalker returns opens her eyes not only to the untamed power and passions of the were-soldiers known as Odin’s Wolves but to her place among them.
Caught between her duty to protect people from the kind of attack she suffered and her irresistible attraction to the man—the shifter—who has risked his life to save her from a creature he insists is an aberration hunted by other wolves as well, Holly must decide who is on her side and who is merely using her for their own purposes.
From Bestselling Erotic Romance and Erotica Author Erika Masten
Turning Wild is a standalone BBW shifter romance novella introducing The Aesir Shifters BBW Romance Series
Turning Wild is an erotic paranormal romance containing strong sexual content intended for mature readers only. All characters depicted in this story are 18 years of age or older, and all sexual activities are of a consensual nature.
Bonus Material: Includes excerpt from the full-length erotic romance The Ringmaster: Cirque De Plaisir and the standalone sci-fi domination and submission romance Flower-And-Willow In New Angeles by Erika Masten, available now.
Erika Masten
I'm the girl next door with an unexpected wicked streak (and an addiction to sexy high heels). I love turning forbidden desires and secret fantasies into erotic tales with literary flare and a dirty mouth. Let me tell you a naughty story...
Read more from Erika Masten
One Wild Night Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Turning Wild: An Aesir Shifters BBW Romance (Standalone) Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Flower-And-Willow In New Angeles: The Flower-And-Willow World Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
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Turning Wild: Aesir Shifters BBW Romance, #1 Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5One Wild Night: Aesir Shifters BBW Romance, #2 Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Wilding: Aesir Shifters BBW Romance, #4 Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5
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Turning Wild - Erika Masten
TURNING WILD
(AN AESIR SHIFTERS BBW ROMANCE)
by
Erika Masten
Copyright © 2014 Erika Masten
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Erika Masten
Contact: erikamasten@gmail.com
Website: http://erikamasten.com
Blog: http://erikamasten.blogspot.com
Newsletter Sign-up: http://eepurl.com/pTLx1
Published by Sticky Sweet Books. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored on, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to actual persons or events are purely coincidental.
Warning: Explicit content. Intended for mature readers only. All characters depicted herein are 18 years of age or older, and all sexual activities are of a consensual nature.
This is a work of erotic fantasy. In real life, please protect yourself and your lover by always practicing safe sex.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Turning Wild
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Excerpt From Erika Masten’s
The Ringmaster: Cirque de Plaisir
Excerpt From Erika Masten’s
Flower-And-Willow In New Angeles
TURNING WILD
CHAPTER ONE
There were days that reminded Holly not to get too big for her britches—and that wasn’t a self-deprecating crack about being a curvy girl. She felt one of those humbling experiences coming, even though she’d just put ten hours in at her research desk at the Agency and all she had been thinking about until that moment was getting home and shucking off her painfully professional skirt suit and ill-fitted overcoat and brushing her brown hair out of its overly tight bun. Walking up to the front door of the supermarket, however, brought more to mind than the fact that she was out of eggs.
The chubby little girl, maybe all of twelve years old, standing on the wide slab of cold gray sidewalk with her brown hair whipping across her face in the chill wind could easily have been Holly ten years before. The situation was familiar enough, as well, with three older boys standing over the girl and sneering down at her as she glared silently back at them. The children were all still so awkward in their bodies, one boy far too scrawny for his baggy jeans, another with arms too long for his sleeves, posture stilted by an adolescent effort to look cool. For her part, the girl was round-faced and round in the middle, padded out to silly proportions by her puffy pink coat. And all of them so serious about establishing and enforcing the social pecking order that always slotted brains and chubby kids at the bottom.
This little Holly kept her expression cold, smooth, disdainful in the face of jibes about fat girls. Holly knew from experience that the boys’ interest in tormenting the girl wouldn’t last as long when their victim refused to cry or tremble or show much concern at all over their cruelty. The very same tactic had insulated Holly from the same kind of bullying as a child, as an orphan shuttled from foster home to foster home, as a pudgy teen with zero fashion sense beyond the knowledge that black was slimming, as a bookish college student with a couple too many hours to her hourglass figure.
As Holly got closer to the door, she could see there was a little more to the story, with the little chubby girl clutching a small husky pup. The dog’s pale blue eyes showed considerably more fear than the child’s as one or another of the lanky boys grabbed for its tail or poked at it. There was no way for Holly or the girl to explain to the pup their particular method for freezing out the pointless, indiscriminate anger of soulless people, so it showed its panic too readily, trying to burrow into her puffy coat.
On another day, Holly might have walked past the kids without stopping. It seemed heartless, she knew. Most of the other adults who went about their business without intervening did so because.... Well, kids will be kids, and plenty of them had themselves teased and bullied classmates for being fatties or weaklings or brains. Plenty of others had been teased and didn’t want the reminder of the humiliation. Holly, had she just let it go, would have done so for the sake of the girl, because Holly knew that look, because Holly herself had worn it. Sometimes, it didn’t serve to interfere when a child like that girl was standing strong. Best not to undermine her when Holly didn’t know what she was going home to. A household of skinny sisters and a hypercritical mother? A classroom with a teacher who didn’t like fat kids because she’d been one? Or...nothing—a foster home or a shelter where she was either the whipping girl or the invisible child? Sometimes, it was better just to pass by with a knowing glance, a shared moment of recognition, older to younger.
On another day, Holly might have let the child handle her own business, but there was something about that particular little girl on that day protecting that runt of a husky pup from those boys. And it was simple enough for Holly, now that she was older, an adult. Now that her life with the Agency had taken on an element of mystery, secrecy, intrigue, danger that the average person knew nothing about. Mundane confrontations like this seemed so much less intimidating.
Arms crossed, the expression on her full face mirroring that of the girl’s, Holly stood about three feet from the cluster of children and waited for them to notice her. When they did, one of the boys even had the nerve to snicker and say, What? She your kid? You look like her.
Holly tilted her head and kept staring, until the boys’ gazes started shifting anxiously back and forth between hers and the girl’s, back and forth, hers and the girl’s. It creeped them out after about thirty seconds. Fuck this,
the same smart ass said before all three boys shuffled away, casting ugly looks over their shoulders at Holly.
Advancing a few steps to stand next to the little girl, both the older and younger still watching the bullies skulking through the parking lot toward the street, Holly said, Cute dog.
Yeah,
the girl sighed in a relieved breath, finally looking down to pet the pup. Wish I could keep him.
He’s not yours?
The girl shook her head, one hand fighting all that long brown hair still whipping into her eyes. No, it was just sitting on the sidewalk all cold, and those boys were kicking at it and talking about doing some...some really mean stuff to it.
Holly nodded. Pretty lucky you stepped up.
The child squinted briefly, doubtfully up at Holly. Not smart, though. They’ll remember this when they see me at school.
Holly nodded again. But sometimes you just have to. Don’t give them anything to grab onto, and they’ll give up after a few days.
That statement hung between the girl and the woman, until the child shifted abruptly to bundle the pup into Holly’s arms. I gotta go.
Holly sucked in a sudden breath and opened her mouth to protest, but the little husky squirmed hard, trying to dig its way up under her suit jacket. By the time she had calmed the pup, made sure it wasn’t going to tumble right out of her arms, the child was yards away walking head down into the wind. The sight churned uneasy feelings in the bottom of Holly’s stomach. In part, it was because of how much the girl really did resemble her, in size, in attitude, and in that somberness behind her eyes that no kid should have had. And in part, it was in recollection of the snide comment from the mouthy boy, when he had asked if Holly was the girl’s mother.
She wasn’t. Holly wasn’t anyone’s mother, no one’s sister or niece, not even a daughter anymore or so much as a cousin. And certainly not a wife or girlfriend, which made Holly snicker just briefly, without real humor. Many aspects of her life had changed drastically over the previous few months—since the Agency had taken her on, since the attack that had prompted the covert government team to contact her in the first place—but the overall desirability of Rubenesque women to the average American male was not one of those miraculous alterations.
At this rate, without so much as a date in a year and a half, there weren’t going to be any little Holly’s in her future. That made the new job, her career with the Agency, that much more important. It got her up in the morning, gave her something to