Shifters' Captive now available

Shifters' Captive is available at Samhain and up to #2 at MB&M.
Reviewer Beth Senter from Paranormal Romance says:
Bonnie Dee's Shifters' Captive is smoking hot from page one. I could not put this one down, it is filled with plot twists and turns that leave you turning pages wondering what will happen next. This is one of the hottest eBooks I have read. But unlike most eBooks it offers more than just steamy sex, it also offers a great story line as well. You will fall in love with Grant and John. I recommend this to anyone looking for a good story with naughty sex scenes that will leave you panting for more.

Waitress Sherrie Stolz never thought she’d need her chatting-up skills to play along with a hot, sexy kidnapper who rants about were-animals and psychic possession. Then he proves his story by changing into a wolf before her eyes.

Human contact never interested John Walker, but his mission is desperate. The pack seer insists Sherrie is the only one who can save his people from a rash of mysterious comas. His connection with Sherrie is instant, powerful and beyond rational explanation. And then a third piece of the puzzle enters the picture.

Grant Perron follows his instincts only to find his prize in the hands of his rival. He’s poised for battle—until he learns his panther shifter clan suffers the same fate as John’s pack. But there’s more. When the three of them touch, the primal, erotic power surge swells like the waves of an earthquake.

Sherrie’s hands—and bed—are suddenly full, figuring out how to manage two snarling alpha males without giving in to the urge to knock their heads together. And channel her new-found power before a villain uses it to destroy them all…

Read on for an excerpt... Sherrie clung to the chair she’d cracked over the stranger’s head and stared at his sprawled, naked body. She was shaking and her heart pounded so hard she felt light-headed. Two nights in a row of strange men accosting her was too much. Sick of being some kind of pawn in this bizarre new world she’d stumbled across, she was half tempted to bat John with the chair too, as he morphed into human form.

“Who is this guy? Another one of your pals? I saw him start to change.”

“No. Not one of my clan. He’s a panther shifter. I can smell the cat in him.”

John tied the man to one of the chairs—not the one Sherrie had hit him with, which was broken. She grabbed one of the chair legs, avoiding the splinters, and tore it off, intending to use it as a club if necessary. By the time John had finished binding the stranger, he was wrapped like a mummy and he was beginning to regain consciousness.

Sherrie put on her waitress uniform while keeping an eye on the blond stranger. He was basketball-star tall and muscled like a linebacker. It was a wonder he hadn’t killed John with one swipe of his big hand. She couldn’t help but notice the ridged muscles of his abdomen and his flaccid cock—uncircumcised like John’s, large and framed against tawny hair. A surge of lust shot through her, and she tore her gaze away from his genitals.

After slipping on her shoes, she picked up her makeshift club. The panther-shifter’s amber eyes opened and focused on her. They were almond shaped, giving him an Asian appearance at odds with his Nordic fairness. He stared at her until John punched him in the chest then his gaze narrowed and swung to the other man. A snarl curled his lips, and a growl rumbled through him.

Sherrie’s skin prickled at the bestial sound, and her nipples tightened. As her thighs tensed, she was ashamed of her body’s perverse reaction. Had she become some kind of thrill-seeker, turned on by dangerous strangers and edgy situations?
“Who the fuck are you and what are you doing here?” John demanded.

At first it seemed the prisoner wouldn’t reply. He looked like he’d rather swallow broken glass than give John the satisfaction of an answer, but at last he snapped, “Here for the girl, just like you.”

“How’d you know about her? Who sent you?” John leaned close, but not so close that the prisoner could hit him with an unexpected head butt.

“No one. Followed a dream.”

“What?”

“You know what I’m talking about. I found her the same way you did—dreamed about her. She’s the one.”

“Whoa!” Sherrie interrupted, stepping forward and brandishing her club. “I keep telling you all, I’m not special. I’m just a normal person.”

His eyes looked deep within her as John had done earlier, and he shook his head. “No. You’re not.”

John was gazing at her too now. Two pairs of eyes, warm brown and amber ale, stripped her more naked than she’d been without her clothes on.

“Have some of your people died too?” John asked.

He nodded. “People slip into a coma and waste away like something is draining their lives.”

“So you dreamed about Sherrie and tracked her here?”

“Thanks for bringing her halfway. Made it easier for me.”

“If you think I’m going to let you have her, you’re wrong.”

“What are you going to do, kill me and set off another war?” He sneered.
They glared at each other. With that much testosterone charging the air, Sherrie realized she’d have to keep the peace.

“No one’s having me. If you’d both calm down and listen to each other, maybe you’d realize you’re on the same page looking for a solution to this psychic sickness that’s infected your people. You should be working together.”

How calm and reasonable she sounded, as if her legs weren’t trembling and her stomach churning. As if it wasn’t bizarre to be discussing a psychic illness with a pair of shapeshifters. She hadn’t realized she had such cast iron nerve in her—although it had taken quite a lot of that in L.A. to go to countless auditions for parts she never got.

John tore his angry gaze away from the stranger long enough to look at Sherrie and listen to her. He gave a grudging nod before glaring at the panther-shifter once more. “All right. Talk.”

“What’s your name?” Sherrie asked, trying to change the tone from a confrontational grilling to more polite conversation.

The almond eyes turned toward her and flicked up and down her body before meeting hers. “Grant Perron.”

“I’m Sherrie Stoltz. This is John Walker.”

“I know who you are and I don’t care who he is.”

“You know my name? How could you possibly know that?” For some reason, that little detail seemed more incredible than the heaping mounds of impossible she’d already swallowed today.

“I told you. I dreamed about you and then I came to find you.” The words sounded like a purr, a velvet-pawed caress that sent warm chills down Sherrie’s back.
“So what do your dreams tell you about me? What am I supposed to do?” Sherrie asked. As she moved closer to the two men, the prickling feeling all over her skin increased. Her hair rose as if charged by static electricity, and lust blossomed in her erogenous zones. Her body ached to be filled as if she hadn’t just had a good pounding by John a few hours earlier.

“Find him, face him.”

“Find who?” John shook Grant’s face, trying to pull his focus away from Sherrie.
She could feel the jealousy rolling off him in waves. He didn’t like Grant being around her. He already considered Sherrie “his”. While his possessiveness was flattering and a part of her responded with an aroused thrill, jealousy didn’t help the situation.

“Touch me again and I’ll rip off your face,” the other shifter announced in a velvety rumble. “I’m talking to the girl.”

Sherrie rolled her eyes and repeated John’s question. “Who is this person? What does he want, how’s he doing what he’s doing and how can we stop him?”

Grant smiled, and his dour expression cracked. If his body was athlete fine, his smile was movie-actor beautiful. “I thought you’d be the one with the answers.”

She didn’t like how he made her feel all fluttery inside, so she snapped, “Well I’m not. I have no clue about any of this and especially not my part in it.”

John had stepped back from the captive and stood with his arms crossed over his naked chest. He’d slipped into his jeans, but was still distractingly shirtless. “Dreams led you here, huh? How do we know you’re not in league with this guy?”

Grant rolled his eyes, dismissing the suggestion. “Do you think these ropes could hold me if I didn’t want to be held? I’m only talking with you because the girl’s right, we need to share what we know and come up with a solution.”

John pulled up a chair and straddled it, facing the other man. “It’s been a little over a month since the first person in our pack got sick. It took several cases before anyone saw a pattern. Our wisewoman had a dream about Sherrie like you did, and I went to bring her here.”
Sherrie continued the story. “Nothing remotely psychic has ever happened to me before, but he showed me a little girl in one of these comas and when I touched her, I saw inside her mind. I experienced everything she did including the being who’s keeping her prisoner. He’s sucking up her energy while keeping her unconscious.”

“They’re his prisoners on an astral plane,” Perron said matter-of-factly, as if he dealt with the otherworldly all the time. “But if he has a physical body, we can destroy it.”

“What if killing him doesn’t set them free? What if they die when he dies? We’ve got to be careful.” John rose and paced the room, reminding Sherrie of wolves she’d seen in a zoo habitat walking the perimeter of their enclosure.

“We need to take action. Cut me loose and I’ll handle it.” Grant strained against his bonds, finally showing some impatience. Sherrie didn’t doubt he could break them as promised if he turned into a mountain lion. Although the idea terrified her, a small part of her wanted to see that.

John stopped pacing to glare at him again. “What are you going to do? Your kind is so impetuous. Taking action isn’t the same as taking the right action.”
“And taking no action is the wolf way. You have endless councils before you make a decision about anything.”

“Enough. John. Untie him. He’s not our prisoner. He’s an ally. And you, Cat-man, remember you came here for me. Whatever you do, I must be a part of it, so let’s think this through and come up with a solution before you go off half-cocked.”
For a girl who tended toward impetuosity herself, she sounded remarkably like a schoolteacher—Let’s work together, class. The only problem was she had no idea what direction their plan should take.

John turned to Perron. “She’s right. We have to lay our differences aside.”
The other man’s lips twisted in a smile that seemed more like a snarl. “Untie me. I’ll be a team player.”