Wolf Love:Werewolves of Granite Lake 1

By: Jane Jamison

Werewolves of Granite Lake 1

Wolf Love

Patty Hallow is dying to see if the stories surrounding Granite Lake and the small town of Wayward, Oklahoma, are real. Unfortunately, she doesn’t realize how close to dying she’ll actually come.

Werewolves, Linc Montana and Chandler Warton, find Patty in a ditch. The only way to save her is to bite and change her, letting her new shifter powers heal her. Feeling the connection that draws werewolves to their mate, they do what has to be done.

Once she’s back on her feet, Patty is ready to track down her attacker and seek revenge. Weird, though, how strange she’s been feeling. Almost as though she’s part animal. Still, a girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do to get justice, whether the men she loves like it or not. But why do they act like they’re hiding something? Do they know the attacker? Or is their secret and even worse one?





Chapter One



Patty Hallow was headstrong. As far as she was concerned, being strong-minded was an asset. She was also determined to live life the way she wanted and would stop at nothing to do so. May hell and brimstone rain down on anyone who tried to get in her way.

“Girls shouldn’t travel alone,” her mother had said. “It’s not safe or appropriate.” Dorris Hallow was a true Georgia lady and versed in all the proper ways that a Southern lady should act. She was at a loss as to explain how or when her daughter had gone astray. After all, she’d raised Patty the same way her mother had raised her, with morals, common sense, and knowledge of a woman’s role in life. It wasn’t her fault that her daughter acted downright strange at times. Sometimes she wondered—yet, of course, had never spoken out loud—if Patty hadn’t been switched at birth in the hospital and she’d somehow gone home with some lower-class Northerner’s daughter. As far as she could tell, a mix-up seemed the only logical conclusion. But as she’d told Patty so many times before, “I did the best I could, given what I had to work with.”

“You’re going to wish you had a man with you,” added her father. “A girl alone is just asking to get raped. And if that happens, then that girl shouldn’t go around hollering about being taken advantage of later on. A girl with the good sense God gave her would know better than to put herself in a bad situation.”

“Women”—how she hated being called a girl—“can do any damn thing they set their mind to. And screw those who get in her way.” She wouldn’t bother trying to explain that a woman should have the right to dress any way she wanted and not feel unsafe. That the man who didn’t treat a woman respectfully, no matter how she dressed or acted, wasn’t a real man. Her folks simply didn’t understand no matter how many times she’d tried to explain it.

She’d stopped by her parents’ home to say good-bye to her folks, but now she wished she hadn’t. Yet, halfway out the door, she whirled around, unable to not get the last word in. “And for the record, a woman should be able to walk down the middle of the street butt naked and be safe. A good man will give her the shirt off his back. A bad one will take advantage of her. How about making men responsible for their actions? They’re not the animals you seem to think they are.”

Although looking at her father sitting in his beat-up recliner, the flaps of his jeans pushed to the side to give his big belly free rein to spill out, a beer in one hand and a smoke in the other, she had to wonder. Maybe some men really were only a step away from being animals. Not all men, of course, but some.

With those parting words, she’d stormed out of their small home on the outskirts of Billow Bluff, Georgia, population 600 and declining, and had gone straight into Richie’s Fruits and Veggies Market to quit her mind-numbing, soul-killing job as a checker. Then she’d headed home and spent the next few days selling every possession she couldn’t shove into her backpack. At last, on that following Saturday, she finally put her feet to the pavement.

She’d always wanted to walk and hitchhike across the country, and now that she’d turned twenty-three, she figured it was about time to get at it. If she waited any longer, she feared she’d end up like so many of her friends. Stuck in a crappy job, married to someone she no longer really liked much less loved, and rubbing cocoa butter on a swollen belly pregnant with the first of who knew how many snotty-nosed children.

Also By Jane Jamison

Last Updated

Hot Read

Recommend

Top Books