Series: Damaged Hearts #1
on April 8th 2014
Genres: New Adult, Paranormal Romance
Buy on Amazon
Shadow Shifters: Damaged Hearts—a deeply emotional, unforgettable New Adult paranormal romance series by A.C. Arthur about the men who are sworn to protect the females—human or otherwise—from the savage fury of his own nature…
In Mine to Claim by A.C. Arthur, Grace Kincaid has been trapped her whole life. Controlled in every way by her domineering parents, she has never had any moment of excitement or passion in all her eighteen years. When a rare night out with a friend ends in violence, Grace believes that perhaps her parents are right to keep her under lock and key. There’s just one problem—she can’t get the irresistibly sexy, mysterious man who saved her from danger out of her head. She knows she should go back to her safe world, but her newfound passion for life—and for her enigmatic protector—are making that impossible…Despite his strength and power, Aidan Sanchez cannot escape. Bound by his Shifter bloodline, he is repulsed by the very attributes his family wishes him to embrace. His main goal is to keep his more dangerous…hungers… under wraps. But when a fight at a club forces Aidan to protect the most alluring woman he’s ever seen, there’s no turning back. He knows he shouldn’t drag her into his world, but she’s awakened a fire within him, and for once, he’s willing to lose control if it means having Grace…
Don’t miss Part of Me coming in May 13, 2014 and Hunger for You coming June 10, 2014.
“I know this great game we can play,” he continued, trying to sit on the stool across from me but missing the seat entirely because, one—he didn’t have eyes in the back of his head and two—he was too drunk to possess any type of balance. His free hand caught the side of the bar just as his knees buckled.
Now I was looking down at him instead of across, still at a complete loss for words.
Brown liquid sloshed over the rim of his glass and down his arm. “Whoa,” he half-moaned, half-laughed, then to my horror, licked the rivulets from his hairy forearm.
I closed my eyes, counting backward from ten and praying that when I opened them again he’d be gone.
No such luck.
“It’s called dare,” he whispered, hot liquor breath fanning over my face because that’s where he was now. Standing right next to me, leaning down so his face was in mine, his eyes aligned with mine, his lips too damned close to mine.
“I dare you to take your clothes off. And then I take my clothes off.”
“And then I vomit all over both of us,” I quipped, finding my words before actually vomiting on this dirtbag.
His hair was greasy and lay in a haphazard yucky mess while his half-closed eyes continued to glare at me. He looked like he was actually thinking about that as an option. I flattened my palms against his chest and the sweaty T-shirt with the totally outdated and faded band logo on front and pushed him away.
“Not interested,” I said in the clearest and loudest English I could manage.
“That’s because I haven’t showed you my piece yet,” he told me just before lifting his arm and pushing it down between where my arms were still extended toward him. Fearing he was going for his “piece,” I yanked my arms back, about two seconds after realizing the jackass had been using the arm with the hand that held the half-empty glass of liquor, which now spilled down the front of his pants.
“Bitch!” he yelled as his “piece” was now outlined by a growing wet stain.
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