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The Alpha's Captive by V. M. Black - Free Now!

Running for his life, he takes her along for the ride….

Werewolf Levi Harris has a habit of going off half-cocked and getting into trouble. But this time, the trouble just might prove fatal. He's stolen a trove of information from a powerful vampire mafia network, and they won't rest until they get it back-and get revenge. His only chance of survival is to extract the information and put it to use before the bad guys catch up with him.

Curvy bombshell Harper Bailey is a good girl with a weak spot for bad boys. When Levi appears, she thinks her dreams have just rolled up on the back of a motorcycle. Little does she know that he's about to hijack her car and take her straight into the crossfire. But Levi himself might just prove the greatest danger of all….

Excerpt

Harper was thirty miles from the Maryland border in the middle of Nowhere, Pennsylvania, when her right front tire exploded.

The sound, as loud as a rifle going off, drowned out the top-fifty station. The car jerked to the side, yanking the wheel out of her hands as it lunged across the center stripe.

She slammed on the brakes, pulling hard to the right, and came to a rest on the muddy shoulder. For several seconds, she sat frozen behind the steering wheel as the panicked tempo of her heart slowed while Pharrell Williams' Happy blared and crackled in her speakers.

And then she started to curse.

It had been a bad day. A very, very bad day, which had started off with a call from her shift manager, who had wanted to fire her even though she'd arranged for her absence with the diner owner a week before.

It had gotten worse when the big party for her grandmother's eightieth birthday had devolved into a shouting match between her sister Christina and her cousin-and worse still when the cops arrived just as Harper stepped between the two and was rewarded for her efforts with her sister's punch, which missed their cousin by a mile to land squarely against Harper's cheek with enough force to leave her with a tender eye.

Harper had managed to talk herself out of a charge of disorderly conduct and had left the party in a furious black mood, damning her entire family-okay, except her grandmother-as she tore out of the drive.

And now this.

"Why'd you have to go and crap out on me now?" she asked her car.

But she couldn't be mad at it. The '68 Buick Skylark was her baby, and she spoiled, petted, and coddled it.




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