Here’s some moody music to get you in a Halloween state of mind. Happy listening!
* “Divide” - Birthday Massacre
* “Red Stars” - The Birthday Massacre
* “Pale” - The Birthday Massacre
* “Midnight” - Birthday Massacre
* “Disparate Youth” - Santigold
* “Every Day is Halloween” - Ministry
* “Hungry Like the Wolf” - Duran Duran
* “Living Dead Girl” - Rob Zombie
* “The Wretched” - Nine Inch Nails
* “Where Is Everybody” - Nine Inch Nails
* “The Day The Whole World Went Away” – Nine Inch Nails
* “Goblin Girl” - Frank Zappa
* “Tino’s Halloween Breaks” - Tino (aka Ben Stokes, Jack Dangers & friends)
* Wicked Insane Evil Dub” - Tino
* “Scare Crow” - Ministry
* “Choralone” - Skinny Puppy
* “Waking the Witch” - Kate Bush (2018 Remaster)
* “Get Out Of My House” - Kate Bush (2018 Remaster)
* “Intruder” - Peter Gabriel
* “Madness” – Killing Joke
Black Hills Wolves
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Decadent Publishing
Date of Publication: June 3, 2016
Number of pages: 108
Word Count: 36,400
Cover Artist: Fiona Jayde
Tech mogul and workaholic Wolf Evan Luparell has little time for distractions but takes a break for his brother’s wedding in South Dakota. When asked to escort another wedding attendee from the airport to Los Lobos, he agrees. Then he meets the curvy spitfire, and she ignores him.
Designer and Wolf Mina Carver didn’t mean to be rude to the handsome, glowering man claiming to be her ride, but she was busy working. Now she must endure a ride to the Black Hills with the cranky but sexy Dominant Wolf. Unexpected mating energy sparks between them, but still—should she dismiss, or kiss him?
Kisses win and they agree upon a no-strings fling. But with each wedding activity throwing them together, and their powerful chemistry and mate compatibility complicating matters, can two workaholics truly have their fun then walk away?
Evan tipped his head and eyed the ceiling. Prompt replies, punctual people. Striking deals and hitting deadlines. These items made his world tick. Not loitering around a miniscule airport pulling a Waiting for Godot moment on infinite repeat for a no-show, flakey designer from California.
God grant him patience and balls of steel when he showed up without the designer and the all-important wedding dress, because his future sister-in-law Darci would certainly be unhappy. […]
He took a deep fortifying breath and froze. Airport smells assailed his senses—the sharp tang of bleach and lemon-scented cleaners, […] coffee, donuts, fried fast food, and under it all, the distinct musk of wolf.
She smelled damn good. His wolf perked up, and his legs propelled him toward the empty baggage claim, where one bright-pink suitcase covered in Hello Kitty stickers sat, unclaimed, on the unmoving L-shaped conveyor belt. Her scent, stronger here, socked his gut, and his gaze shot to the corner.
The chaos around the woman stunned him silent. Large, paper coffee cup, half-eaten banana, and a quarter of a powdered doughnut perched on a brown paper bag next to her. Crumbs splattered the linoleum and the woman’s long-sleeved blue blouse in a thick layer of white, sugary dust. On her other side, two pink garment bags lay like corpses, along with a bubblegum-pink unzipped duffel as long as her outstretched, denim-clad legs. Some of the bag’s contents—pads of drawing paper and large swaths of fabric—protruded over the opening, the fabric splaying over her legs in a rainbow-colored blanket. Her feet peeked out of the mess, encased in sparkling pink UGGs. Good grief, sequins? She smacked her shiny boots together in a poor imitation of Dorothy and bobbed her head from side to side in time to some music only she seemed to hear. Her shoulder-length red hair, the color of ripe dark cherries—his favorite fruit—gleamed under the harsh airport lighting and curtained most her face from his view, save a pert nose and small chin, both speckled with a generous amount of freckles.
He’d always liked freckles.
Clearing his throat, he stepped closer, but she didn’t flinch in surprise or look up. Her attention remained on the tablet on her lap, the stylus between her pale, freckled fingers swiping without hesitation over her screen. […]
He positioned himself right in front of her wiggly, booted feet. “Excuse me, J—”
“Sh.” She raised her arm and flicked her hand in the universal get lost gesture.
He gaped at her. “Excuse me?”
Another wave of her hand while her stylus streaked across her tablet screen with the other. “Not interested.”
Nice voice. Low and husky. Her attitude, on the other hand… “But—”
“Go away.” Her velvet voice carried a stubborn edge.
In other circumstances, he would’ve admired her strength. But he’d wasted copious amounts of time hunting for the clearly inconsiderate and irresponsible female. “Fine. Get your own damn ride to Los Lobos. Jasmine.”
About the Author:
Celia lives in California with her husband, daughter, and two feisty cats. She writes urban fantasy and paranormal romance, and has a particular fondness for werewolves, vampires, and the Fae. Her stories are action-packed and typically include one of the many varieties of romantic entanglements: fated mates, second chance, rescue romance, opposites attract, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, and more.
When not writing, you’ll find Celia exercising, reading a good book, hanging with her family, or indulging her addiction to Joss Whedon’s TV shows and movies, as well as everything in the Marvel Universe franchise. Of course!
Web site: http://www.celiabreslin.com/