Series: Wolf Clan Shifters
Book: Noreen’s Choice (Book 2)
Author: Ann Gimpel
Publisher:
Liquid Silver Books
ISBN: 978-1-62210-058-3
Release
Date: 11/4/13
Genre:
Paranormal romance
47,000
words
Snared
by the mate bond, Noreen risks everything for the men she loves.
Book Synopsis:
It’s
1936 in Calgary. After a terrifying experience, Noreen is frantic to escape the
Garden of Eden cult, so she catches the night train north out of town. An
ominous stranger and a farmer who’s furious she slept in his barn remind her
just how alone she is in the world.
Wolf
shifters, Les and Karl, eke out a primitive existence on the flanks of the
Canadian Rockies. Between Hunters who want to kill them and a wildfire raging
out of control, they’re relieved when their clan leader, Jed, shows up.
Jed has
a surprise in his car, though. While passing through the nearest town, he spied
Noreen by the side of the road picking straw out of her hair and offered her a
ride. Before Jed’s car even stops rolling, Les and Karl know she’s their mate.
So skittish she’s barely willing to exit the car, Noreen busies herself helping
Jed and his pack mates unload supplies.
Can Les
and Karl convince her to stay? If she does, will the risks she faced as a cult
member pale in comparison to being mated to shifters?
Chapter 1
Autumn, 1936
The swish of tires on wet
pavement drove Noreen deeper into the shadows of a band of oak trees. She
pulled her black wool cloak tighter against her body and set her teeth to keep
them from chattering. Maybe running away from the Garden of Eden cult hadn’t
been such a hot idea, but staying didn’t work either. Not after what she’d
witnessed last night. When she’d joined the group two years ago, they’d been
warm and welcoming. The rituals were a bit risqué, but harmless all in all. She
squeezed her eyes shut to block out the image of a cheering mob that had segued
from chanting while scantily clad to blood sacrifice. Exposing her body was one
thing, a thirst for human blood quite another…
She pried her eyes open. No
one would save her except herself and there wasn’t much she could do by playing
ostrich. Escape was essential, the only thing that mattered. Never mind she’d
be walking away from what little she owned, since her things were in one of the
cult’s many apartments.
Noreen took another step
backward. One boot sank into sticky mud; cold water ran into it. Reality hit
home and terrified her. She couldn’t go back to work. Nearly everyone she knew
at the insurance exchange was related to the cult in some way. Or to another
similar group. Occult fervor had risen during the twenties in the wake of World
War I. By the middle of the nineteen thirties, it had a well-established
toehold. Fascination with the supernatural ran high and had grown like an
out-of-control weed. Most spiritual cults were rooted in the States, but it
hadn’t taken long before Canadians picked up the banner, enthralled by the
unseen world.
Despite Noreen’s best efforts,
shudders racked her body, and her teeth banged against one another
uncontrollably. October in Calgary meant the air was dry and crisp. She’d seen
frost on the roofs this morning. Tonight would likely see another freeze. It
didn’t take much of an imagination to realize winter would set in soon.
Somehow, she’d sat at her desk
all day. When co-workers commented she seemed subdued, she’d just said she
wasn’t feeling well. It was the only way she’d gotten out of mandatory
attendance at tonight’s cult meeting. Midday, she’d slipped out of the office
and stopped by the bank. Closing her account would have engendered suspicion,
so she’d withdrawn two hundred dollars, half of what she had saved. Even that
earned her a stern lecture from one of the bank vice presidents. Likely afraid
she’d fallen for some scam, he drew her into a side office intent on discovering
why she needed such a vast sum of money. Noreen rolled her eyes at the memory.
She’d fabricated a story about a mythical aunt who had unexpected medical
bills.
“Yes, and I’m wasting precious
time standing here,” she muttered, the words barely discernable against her
chattering teeth. If she was going to follow through with the plan she’d
hatched during the day, she needed to be out of town and well-hidden before
someone looked for her. If she got really lucky, that wouldn’t be until after
she didn’t show up for work tomorrow.
Or they might send someone to my place tonight to see if I need
anything.
That last thought galvanized
her into action. Noreen broke into a shambling trot and ducked into a coffee
shop. She needed something hot to drink, and then she’d head for the train
station and catch the evening express north toward Edmonton.
“Looking pretty wet there,
hon.” A smiling waitress hustled over to her. “We’re closing soon, but I can
get you some soup.”
“Just coffee,” Noreen managed.
“And I promise I’ll drink it fast.”
The waitress, a buxom blonde
with gray roots, cocked her head to one side. “You okay, sweetie?” Her brown
eyes flickered kindly.
“Fine.” She dug a nickel out
of a pocket. “Here’s for the coffee. I like it black.”
The waitress frowned and then
shrugged. “It’s six cents now, but seeing as how we’re just going to toss
what’s left in the pot, keep your money. Looks as if you need it worse than we
do.”
Tears threatened at the
woman’s unexpected thoughtfulness. Noreen blinked them back and murmured,
“Thank you.” She sank into a red leather padded chair at the counter and waited
while the waitress poured steaming liquid into a heavy, white ceramic mug. The
heated crockery felt heavenly when she cradled it between her hands. The coffee
burned her tongue, but the jolt from the caffeine was instantaneous and
welcome.
Noreen glanced at her watch.
How had it gotten to be nine p.m.? Her train left in an hour; it was a thirty
minute walk to the station, and she needed time to purchase a ticket once she
got there. She didn’t have extra money to waste on streetcars or taxis. Setting
her cup down, she nodded at the waitress and hurried out of the café. The
streets weren’t exactly deserted, so she pulled the sodden wool of her cloak’s
hood over her bright hair. She didn’t want to have to explain why she hadn’t
been at the meeting if anyone recognized her. After all, her excuse had been
she was too sick to leave her home that night, and it would be blown to hell if
she were seen wandering around in marginal weather.
Stop that! She lectured
herself. Everyone else is at cult
headquarters. No one’s out and about who might recognize me.
Brave words. Too bad I don’t believe them.
Her heart thudded so hard, she
was afraid everyone she passed could hear it. Noreen counted off blocks as she
walked through the heart of Calgary’s business district. Her wet sock squished
in her boot. She wished she had time to take it off and wring it out. Another
café, this one advertising it stayed open until ten, looked inviting, but she walked
on by.
I’ll take care of my sock problem at the station. I’m cutting the
timing close as it is.
Noreen felt ill. The coffee
she’d welcomed going down ate at her stomach like acid. If she met up with
anyone from the cult at the train station, she’d be finished. Cult members
signed on for life. There weren’t any early out clauses that she knew of. A
tear dripped down one cheek; she brushed it aside. No point in feeling sorry
for herself. She’d made a bad decision and didn’t have any fallback position. There
was no family to run home to—or call for help. They’d all died in the flu
epidemic of 1918. She’d been seven at the time and had ended up in the Calgary
orphanage.
“Even if I had relatives,” she
mumbled, “they’d be the last place I’d go. Wouldn’t want to implicate them.”
There hadn’t been anything truly wrong with the orphanage, but there hadn’t
been much right there, either. Noreen understood perfectly why she’d been so
attracted to the cult. For the first time in her twenty-five years, she felt as
if she belonged somewhere. Like she had a family.
What a joke! Noreen
castigated herself for being a fool, and a gullible one at that, and then gave
it up for wasted effort.
The station lights shone
through ground fog that had misted out of nowhere during her flight across
town. A few more steps and she pushed the door open, walking into warmth so
welcome it took her breath away. She didn’t realized how cold she’d gotten. Not
just body-cold; her spirit was frozen to the core of her soul.
Noreen gazed around the
station. A few people milled about, but not many. Resolute now that she was
here, she marched to an open ticket counter and said, “Edmonton, please.
Economy coach.”
The man didn’t bother to look
up. “How many?” In his fifties or sixties, he was rail thin with sparse, gray
hair.
“Just me.”
“Name?”
“Noreen Galen.”
His fingers shook as he wrote
out her ticket. “That’ll be a dollar-fifty, miss.”
“Oh.” She bit her lower lip
and fished in her handbag.
He glanced at her, rheumy blue
eyes shrewd. “You got a problem with that?”
Noreen swallowed hard. It went
against the grain, but she spoke up for herself. “Since you asked, yes I do. I
don’t have much, and I thought the advertised fare was a dollar. I, um, called
today and asked about it.”
He shrugged. “You got a buck?”
She held it up so he could see. “Okay, missy. Here’s your ticket.” He stamped
it and held it out to her, but Noreen was still nonplussed he’d tried to
overcharge her, so she didn’t reach for it. “Ain’t you going to take your
ticket?” He sounded annoyed.
“Uh, sure.” She pushed her
money under the bars and took the ticket.
“Gate seven. She boards in
twenty minutes.”
Noreen scuttled away, not
wanting to deal with the clerk who’d tried to cheat her. If she wouldn’t have
said anything, he would have pocketed the extra fifty cents. Outrage flooded
her and left a bitter taste at the back of her mouth. Someone really should
report him.
Yes, someone should, but not me. The last thing I need is to draw
attention to myself. Following the
signs, she settled in to wait near where the train would come and bent to
unlace her boot. Her sock had soaked up most of the water. She wrung out what
she could and put it back on before the wool could cool off and become clammy.
Some strands of her white-blonde hair had escaped from beneath her hood; she
tucked them back out of sight and drew in a shuddery breath. Fifteen more
minutes and she’d be safe on the train. Well, maybe safe, though it seemed
unlikely she’d run into any Garden of Edeners on the night train to Edmonton.
She’d studied maps during the
day and decided to get off around Red Deer. Buying a ticket all the way to
Edmonton was a hedge in case anyone tried to find out where she’d gone. From
Red Deer, hopefully she could hitch a ride west into some of the smaller communities
dotting the Rockies. Maybe, if she were really lucky, she could land a job
before her money ran out. Insofar as she knew, cult activities were limited
outside major cities.
Wonder how much trouble they’re going to go to to find me?
The loudspeaker announced her
train; after a final glance around the station, Noreen strode toward the door
and out onto the platform. The steam engine’s headlamp lit the night. With a
whoosh and a roar, the train clattered to a halt. She waited until a flood of
travelers disembarked, went up the steps, and found her way to a nearly
deserted coach.
Her seat was soft and the
train car warm. Before the train had even pulled out of the station, her eyes
felt heavy. Noreen pinched her hands. Sleeping, at least until they got
underway, wasn’t an option. She had to stay alert and keep an eye on the few
passengers entering her car.
It wasn’t easy to stay awake.
She’d barely slept the night before as her mind replayed the horror of a man
she’d known and respected chopping off two of his fingers while lost in
cult-driven zeal. If it had just been him, acting by himself, it might have
been one thing, but hundreds of other cult members were screeching, cheering,
and egging him on. They’d put his fingers in a brass bowl and used the blood to
lure a spirit guide. Two men had gone into a deep trance after that. Noreen had
excused herself, barely making it to the ladies’ room before her stomach
rebelled. She hadn’t returned, but the cult was so high on bloodlust, she
figured no one even noticed her absence.
Finally, the wheels squealed
against the rails and the train chugged northward. Her car was still mostly
empty. As she sank deeper into her seat and drew her hood low over her eyes,
Noreen dared to let herself hope. She’d made it this far. Maybe, just maybe,
she’d escape to start a new life, one where she’d make better choices.
* * * *
The phone jangled again. Loud
and strident, it made Les’ sensitive lupine hearing ache. It took him a moment
to realize he needed his human form to make the noise go away. He’d tried to
ignore the damned thing, but whoever was calling wouldn’t give up. Every time
he ventured near the house, it was ringing. With an aggravated snort, he
commanded his body to shift. As soon as he had feet rather than paws, he strode
through the door of his cabin deep in the woods, jaw tight with annoyance. His
remote location a few miles outside Rocky Mountain House often lost phone
service for long periods of time.
“Yes and too bad this isn’t
one of them,” he muttered, snatched up the receiver, and barked, “Yes, I’m
here.”
“It’s about damned time. I’ve
been trying to get hold of you for days.”
Les’ eyes widened. “Jed?”
“Who the hell else?”
Les brayed laughter. “Good
point. It’s not as if very many people have this number. What’s up, boss? I
thought you were coming my way months ago. The boys and I wondered what
happened.”
“Now that I have your
attention, hang up.” Jed’s voice had a sharp edge that Les remembered all too
well. “We’ll do this a more private way.”
“You got it.” Les dropped the
black receiver back in place. He kicked the door shut to keep the cold breeze
out. It didn’t bother him as a wolf, but he was naked and the air had a chill
edge to it. He trotted into the bedroom and had begun to dress when Jed’s voice
sounded in his mind.
“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for a
week.”
Les sank onto the bed and
pulled a quilt over his still-bare legs as he considered where to start. Jed
was clan leader for wolf shifters. He needed all the information Les could
provide. “First off, we’re all still
okay.”
“That’s a relief. When I couldn’t raise you, I was afraid Hunters had
killed everyone. Made me half-crazy not to know anything. Anyway, we pulled
into Calgary last night.”
“With your new mate?”
“Affirmative. Bron, Terin, and Alice are with me.” Jed blew out a breath. “You may have heard through the grapevine, we’d originally decided to
come north as part of our wedding trip, but Hunters nabbed half a dozen of us
in northern California. It took a major offensive to free our people. Even so,
we lost a couple.”
Les nodded, and then realized
Jed couldn’t see him. “Yes, I know. We’ve
had problems of our own. First it was Hunters. They almost got your cousins Ron
and Chris. I’m still waiting for the fallout on that one since we killed the
whole posse that came after us. All five of them.”
“Was there any choice?” Jed’s
voice was stern.
“No.” Anger tightened Les’
muscles. He’d like to kill every goddamned Hunter in the universe, but he
wasn’t about to tell Jed that. And there hadn’t been any choice, not really.
They’d been surrounded. The only thing that saved them was taking a firm
offensive position.
Jed broke into Les’ thoughts. “What’d you do with the bodies?”
“Don’t worry, boss. No one will ever find them. We dragged them to the
very bottom of a cave system where there’s a vent to an upper cave and burned
them.”
“How long ago?”
Les thought about it. He’d
spent much of the last month as a wolf which skewed his time sense. “Maybe a week.”
“You still haven’t told me why you weren’t answering your phone.”
“We’ve all been in our wolf forms. There’s a fire burning out of
control between our pack and the crest of the Rockies. A couple of the cabins
farther west incinerated—”
“Hmph,” Jed interrupted,
obviously not concerned about an out-of-control wildfire. “Any of you find mates yet?”
“What do you think? It’s not as if the odds are in our favor.”
“Maybe Alice can change that. Women trust her. She’s actually scared up
three mates since she joined Bron, Terin, and me.” A hesitation. “How
close did you say that fire was?”
“My cabin’s not in any immediate danger. It’s fall and I’m expecting it
to rain soon.” Les scratched at
month-old beard growth on his chin. “It’s
pretty primitive here, boss. Nothing like your digs in Hollywood.”
A different voice sounded in
his head, rich, vibrant, and definitely female. “I’ve been listening in. Shameless of me not to have said something
earlier. Don’t worry about me. My life was a whole lot simpler before I met up
with Jed and my other two mates. Besides, I’m looking forward to meeting the
clan members here in Alberta.”
Les’ mouth twitched into half
a smile. “You must be Alice. We’ve heard
a lot about you. Are you really six feet tall?”
Alice snorted; it made Les
wish he’d kept his mouth shut. After all, Alice was mated to his clan leader. “How about if we leave the details open and
you can see for yourself when we get there? Jed says it’s a four or five hour
drive and we should arrive sometime tomorrow. Is there anything we need to
bring from the big city?”
Les gazed around his one
bedroom cabin as if he expected a grocery list to materialize. He cleared his
throat before remembering he didn’t need his actual voice. “Um, we’ve been pretty much living off the land this past month, so
anything you bring would be welcome.”
“I get the picture.” Jed
broke in with a laugh. “We’ll fill up the
trunk and the rest of the back seat.”
Les couldn’t help himself. “Who gets to sit next to Alice?”
Female chuckling made his
heart lighter than it had been in a long time. “Oh, they fuss and snarl a bit, but they sort of take turns. It’s nice
actually, to have three doting mates.”
“I’m sure it is.” Les brushed
a wave of sadness aside. He’d love to have a woman to fuss over, alongside
Karl, his pack mate. They’d hunted for years for a female to grace their lives
without success. A few promising candidates had crossed their path when they’d
lived in Edmonton, but Hunters had driven them out of the city fifty years
before.
“We’ll be there by tomorrow afternoon.” Jed’s voice was gruff, and Les figured his clan
leader could read his mind.
“I’ll alert the troops, boss. Everyone will be really glad to see all
of you. And to meet your mate.”
Les waited, but a certain
emptiness told him Jed had signed off. He shoved the quilt aside, finished
dressing, and called Karl through their telepathic link. It didn’t take long
before paws scrabbled against the door, and Les remembered he’d shut it. By the
time he crossed the small space and pulled the door open, Karl had found his human
form and stood shivering, arms wrapped around his tall, spare frame. Black hair
hung to his waist in tangles. “Thanks. Damned cold out here.” The wolf shifter
bounded into the room, giving the door a shove as he passed through it. “What’s
up?”
“Jed’s here.” Les spread his
arms wide and rolled his eyes. “Along with his lieutenants and their new mate.
We’ve got to clean this place up.”
“Why? It’s always been good
enough for us.”
Les slugged him in the arm.
“You weren’t listening. Jed’s mate
will be here.”
“Oh, I get it.” Karl chortled,
dark eyes gleaming with glee. “Maybe if we didn’t do anything, she’d take pity
on us and—”
“Right. Find some clothes and
we’ll get to work. I don’t think Jed, Terin, or Bron will want their new mate
waiting on the likes of us.”
Karl sprinted for his sleeping
alcove toward the rear of the log cabin’s main room. Drawers banged open.
“Fire’s getting closer,” he called over one shoulder. “Maybe it would be better
for all of us to get together in Red Deer.”
Les considered it. “Nope. Too
soon since we axed those Hunters. That’s where they were from—there and
Edmonton. I don’t want any friendly sheriff asking questions if they discover
we live out here. Are you sure the fire’s closer? Maybe the wind just shifted
direction.”
“It’s definitely closer. The
smoke’s thicker, and I can actually hear it burning from the rise a couple
miles west of here.” Karl slid his legs into trousers and pulled a sweater over
his head before shoving his feet into an ancient pair of sheepskin slippers. He
turned to Les. “Where do you think we should start? Come to think of it, when
do you want to alert the rest of the clan, or should I do that?”
“We can take care of that
later tonight. How about if you work on the dishes? I’ll sweep and get the
kettle going for laundry.”
Karl strode to the sink and
pumped the handle for water. “Eww.” He wrinkled his nose. “How long have these
plates been here?”
“Does it matter?” Les lugged a
large, cast iron kettle in through the back door and hefted it onto a
wood-burning stove. He opened the firebox door, levered a pocket knife out of
his pants, and started shaving tinder. “Let’s warm some water. That should
help.” As he worked, Les dialed in his lupine senses and scented fresh air
coming through the back door. It was indeed tinged with smoke. What bad timing
for a major fire. If it drove them into one of the nearby towns, they’d risk
discovery because Hunters could scent them.
“Les?”
He looked up from his
half-built fire. “Um-hum.”
“Maybe it’s time to move on.”
“No!” Les banged a fist down
on his thigh. “I’m sick of running. If the fire gets this far, we’ll come back
when it’s over and rebuild.”
“But we’ll never find a mate
out here.”
“Just do the damned dishes.
We’ve got enough problems without adding to them.”
Meet Ann Gimpel: (Short Bio)
Ann Gimpel is a clinical psychologist, with a Jungian
bent. Avocations include mountaineering, skiing, wilderness
photography and, of course, writing. A lifelong aficionado of the
unusual, she began writing speculative fiction a few years ago. Since then her
short fiction has appeared in a number of webzines and anthologies. Full length
works, Psyche’s Prophecy, Psyche’s Search, and Psyche's Promise are small press
publications available in e-format and paperback. To Love a Highland Dragon, Fortune’s Scion, Earth’s Requiem and Earth’s Blood are urban fantasy
romances available in e-format. A number of paranormal romance shorter works
are also available. Check out Ann’s website or blog for a full listing of her
fiction.
Connect With Her On:
Long Bio:
Ann Gimpel is a mountaineer at heart. Recently retired from
a long career as a psychologist, she remembers many hours at her desk
where her body may have been stuck inside four walls, but her soul was planning
yet one more trip to the backcountry. Around the turn of the last century (that
would be 2000, not 1900!), she managed to finagle moving to
the Eastern Sierra, a mecca for those in love with the mountains. It was during
long backcountry treks that Ann’s writing evolved. Unlike some who see the
backcountry as an excuse to drag friends and relatives along, Ann prefers her
solitude. Stories always ran around in her head on those journeys, sometimes as
a hedge against abject terror when challenging conditions made her fear for her
life, sometimes for company. Eventually, she returned from a trip and sat down
at the computer. Three months later, a five hundred page novel emerged. It
wasn’t very good, but it was a beginning. Ann learned a lot between writing
that novel and its sequel.
Around that time, a friend of hers suggested she try her
hand at short stories. It didn’t take long before that first story found its
way into print and they’ve been accepted pretty regularly since then. One of
Ann’s passions has always been ecology, so her tales often have a green twist.
In addition to writing, Ann enjoys wilderness photography. She
lugs pounds of camera equipment in her backpack to distant locales every year.
A standing joke is that over ten percent of her pack weight is camera gear
which means someone else has to carry the food! That someone is her husband.
They’ve shared a life together for a very long time. Children, grandchildren
and three wolf hybrids round out their family.
