Lion and the Falcon (Furry United Coalition, #4)

When an A.S.S agent is given to F.U.C, it’s not just the criminals who feel the heat.

 

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Genre: Paranormal/Shapeshifter Romance

 

Given the choice between dealing with a psycho killer, a meddling mother and an all too sexy falcon, this poor doctor does what any sane lion would do—he takes a nice, long nap.

Avian Soaring Security has transferred Clarice to the Furry United Coalition so she can help track some escaped psycho patients. As if that weren’t bad enough, they partnered her with the very pampered Dr. Manners. Everything about the attractive feline annoys her, except for his flaming hot kisses. But is passion enough to keep a usually sparring species together?

Nolan’s pedigree isn’t the only thing preventing him from falling for his sexy partner. She’s bossy, violent, rude and oh so intriguing to this curious cat, but his meddlesome mother will never allow him to get involved with a bird. But before he can decide if love is worth bucking pride tradition, he needs to stay out of the clutches of a demented ex-patient.

Book order for the Furry United Coalition Series (also known as FUC).

*For complete reader enjoyment, it is recommended you read the books in order.

Excerpt (Mature Audience Only – May induce laughter):

Nolan woke to a throbbing in his head, which didn’t improve when the bed he snoozed upon suddenly swerved and he rolled into a tight space. His face smashed against smooth leather.

What the hell?

Struggling to roll back, he rested his bound hands on his stomach and blinked through blond lashes at the roof of his car. How did I get here? Last thing he remembered, a sack of bricks dropped on him a moment before he smelled tiger. But it sure wasn’t a tigress who currently drove his car or whose scent lingered all over him.

Nope that belonged to the woman with the straight black hair, the one who perturbed him, and whom if scent could be believed, groped his poor, defenseless body. Just what happened while he lay unconscious? And why did his head hurt so much? Only one way to find out. “This might be a stupid question, but why are you driving my car?”

“Awake finally, Sylvester? About time. Nap often on the pavement?”

“Only when attacked.”

“By women.” Clarice sounded amused. “You know, for a lion, you’re not all that impressive.”

“Says the woman who has yet to see me without my pants.”

She coughed. “And intends to keep it that way. And what does penis size have to do with letting a woman get the drop on you?”

“You would have preferred I beat the woman up?”

“No. But you didn’t even know she or her friend were there. If I hadn’t come along, you’d have woken up tied to a bed somewhere as some kind of sex slave.”

“Yeah. I wish they’d stop doing that.”

The car swerved for a moment when Clarice swiveled her head to shoot him a shocked look. “You mean it’s happened before?”

“More often that I’d like to admit.”

Through the rear view mirror, he could see her gnawing her lower lip as she struggled not to ask. Turned out they had more in common than originally imagined because just like a cat, she lost the battle to curiosity. “I probably don’t want to ask this, but why?”

“Could it not wait until you’ve unbound my hands and let me out of the back seat? This isn’t the most comfortable place.” The backseats of Audi A4’s were built for purses and really small people, not six foot plus male lions. “Which reminds me, why am I tied up?”

“I wasn’t sure what kind of mood to expect when you woke up. I took precautions. I prefer to keep my head on my shoulders, thank you very much.”

“I thought you didn’t fear me?”

“Yeah, well, even the gentlest of kittens has claws and I like my hair this length.”

“I prefer to confine my scratching to the bedroom and be the cause, not the source.”

“Too much info. And I guess given you’re back to flirting that answers my question of ‘are you alright?’ ”

“Actually, other than a bit of a headache, I feel pretty good. I needed a siesta.”

“You’re now making me wish I’d left you on the ground.”

“I’m sorry, did I forget to say thank you for rescuing me and putting me to bed? Or should you thank me because if I weren’t here then that would mean you’re stealing my car instead of chauffeuring me in it while I napped?”

Clarice snorted. “Only you, Sylvester, would call a concussion a nap.”

“My name is Nolan, chicken hawk.”

“I’m a falcon.”

“Oops. Did I mention I’m also bad with names?” He tossed her a benign smile when she scowled. Two could play at her game. “So where are we going?”

“Crime scene.”

“Ah yes. Poor Agnes.” His enjoyment at her discomfiture evaporated at the reminder.

“You knew her?”

“Yes. A lovely woman. I’m going to miss her. But I have to ask, why are we going together? Didn’t you have a motorcycle? Don’t tell me you left it behind.”

“Not exactly. I seem to have temporarily misplaced it.”

Laughter barked forth from at her expense. “You went to the Hungry Heifer didn’t you?”

“How does everyone know that?”

“Because they’re notorious for looking like a biker joint.”

“Maybe because it has motorcycles parked across the front.”

“Ah, but those are gang member bikes. And you are not a member.”

“So I learned.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get the bike back.”

“And exactly how will you do that, doc? I can’t exactly picture you facing a motorcycle gang down?”

“I have my sources,” he replied enigmatically. “Now, do you mind stopping for a moment and untying my hands.”

“Stop? I’m kind of in a hurry and we’re almost there.”

The wicked bird. She meant to have him show up at the crime scene with his hands tied. Unacceptable. Nolan would never live it down, especially if Mason lurked. Damned bear had a way of always managing to pop up during a man’s most embarrassing moments, then never letting anyone forget it. He also tended to take pictures.

Eyeing the knot, Nolan decided it would take too much effort to gnaw, so with a shrug, he flexed and pulled, tearing the silken tie, trying not to think of how much the darned thing cost. Hands free, he sat up and lounged in the back, the picture of insouciance, an expression he suspected drove his avian chauffeur crazy judging by the scowl she shot him through the rear view mirror.

“Much better,” he said. “Next time you tie me up, though, you should really try something a little tougher, say like handcuffs or nylon rope. I’ve got some if you need to borrow them.”

“There won’t be a next time.”

“You say that now, but wait until you see the four posters on my bed.”

“Let’s get one thing straight, cat. I will never see the inside of your bedroom. You and I will never have sex. Flirting with me is a waste of precious oxygen.”

“So you keep intimating, but our friendship is still young. I may grow on you.”

“Like fungus? Doubtful. There’s creams for that.”

* * * * *
Editor: Brandi Buckwine

Cover Artist: Amanda Kelsey – www.razzdazzdesign.com

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