M. A. GRANT- Guest Post and Giveaway!!

A Wolf at the Door

The wolf is one of the most polarized animals in the United States. It is the subject of intense debate, and the sides are upheld with a rigidity that only enhances the divide. And it appears that this attitude has even extended into the world of paranormal romance.
Werewolves and other shifters have existed in folklore for time immemorial, yet they remain a distant second in popularity to vampires. I’ve always been fascinated with werewolf stories, and now that my own is published, I’m surprised to see how swiftly these tales are discounted by some readers. But I think I’ve figured out why.
Vampires are malleable. Authors can shape them and their worlds at will, making them evil or sympathetic as needed. Vampires and their immortality have always mirrored what we want, what our societal values are, and the edge of danger only enhances their allure. Werewolves can’t do this.
At their core, these heroes or heroines are animals, specifically, one of the most beautiful and terrifying predators on our planet. Wolves exist in a natural world based on instinctual rules, with a hierarchy that is surprisingly similar to our human structures; theirs is purer though, and I think that connection unnerves us.
Seeing the way packs work together—supporting, disciplining, and especially forgiving—is hard to acknowledge, more so because we don’t like to be reminded that we’re often brutal and cruel to each other for imagined gains. Why else is trolling or anonymous cruelty so popular? Why else do "epic fails" receive more notice than acts of random kindness? Whether we like to admit it or not, competition and brutality is an expected way of life. And people read to escape the real world, not face it.
I’ve always wondered what would happen if wolves’ instincts could be found in humans. Would they make us better? Make us worthier of happiness? I want to know the answers to those questions. That’s why I keep reading werewolf stories, and will continue to write them.

Official Red Moon Blurb:
Dark, moving and original, a story of family, survival, and getting on with life...
Flynn Sinclair understands pack loyalty — for years as his Alpha father’s enforcer, he has done things in the name of duty that he can’t ever forget. But the vast expanse of Alaska offers him a peace he’s never known. Alone, removed from pack life, he can focus on his research and try to forget his life before.
But duty has a way of inviting itself in, and Flynn finds himself doing two reckless things in one week: leaving the safety of Alaska to save his brother Connor’s life, and unwittingly falling in love with Evie Thompson, a woman who doesn’t deserve to be drawn into his terrifying world.
Connor carries news of their father’s descent into madness, and it looks like neither geography nor Flynn’s attempts at disengagement will put off a confrontation. Flynn had finally begun to believe that he might deserve something good in his life — something like Evie — but to move forward in the light, he must first reconcile with the dark.
　
Red Moon is her debut novel. She has a second title – Lace and Lead – to be released with Escape Publishing November 1, 2013.

ISBN/APN: 9780857990655
Release Date: August 1^{st, 2013}
Category: Paranormal Romance
Available at: iTunes   US Kindle   UK Kindle   ebooks.com  Kobo   JB Hi-Fi Now Ebooks   Booktopia.com.au   B&N 

Excerpt:
He had her. Finally. Flynn could hear the change in her breathing, was still riding on the waves of scent that were spiking every time his fingertips moved in slow, controlled circles against her sleeve. That’s the only reason he had reached for her after shaking her hand. He was surprised that she was reacting so strongly, but truly shocked that she seemed so unaware of her own charm. Surely she’d been with other men before; it was the modern era, after all, and she was too damn beautiful to not have dated. Still, he didn’t try to deny that the thought of her with another man made him want to rip out the lucky bastard’s throat.
Some dim, civilized part of his brain was warning him that he was reacting too emotionally, was too close to her, had pushed the situation too hard and too fast. Normally he would listen to that voice, but being in such close proximity was messing with his head. Mine, the dark voice purred quietly. Every fiber of his being centered on that word, and he breathed it in deeply along with her scent. Mine.
Her hair looked soft, the fluorescent lighting catching the highlights. He gently pulled on her elbow, drawing her even closer to his chest and lowered his face until he was almost touching her hair. He breathed in again, slow and deep, relishing the light scent of coconut that must have come from her shampoo.
His question hung in the air between them.
She mumbled something he couldn’t catch. Flynn lowered his head against her cheek so he could hear better. ‘Your name?’
This time, he was rewarded with a shaky, breathy answer against his skin. ‘Evie. Evie Thompson.’
Her voice slid over him, and it was all he could do to not sway to its rhythm. He inhaled as closely to the soft skin behind her ear as he dared, his arousal twinging at her soft, feminine sigh. In a rare moment of honesty, he heard himself say, ‘I couldn’t stop thinking about you.’ He took in a few more breaths, loving the way her scent tickled his throat, and she gently raised a hand and put it against his shoulder.
This was why he was only touching her elbow, yet torturing himself with her nearness. Her touch spread like an electric shock across his skin, frying both nerves and his control. He focused on that point of their joining, how warm her hand felt even through the layers of his shirt. But then came a pressure. An insistent pressure. Like she wanted him to move.
His eyes shot open and he looked down, still caught in the haze between wolf and man. She was glaring at him, hand pushing against his shoulder. Confused, he stepped back, dropping his hand, astonished when she turned on her heel and marched away.
The redhead was watching, open-mouthed. Connor’s lips rose into a wide grin.
Flynn walked away from him, following her. Evie. And he tried to ignore it when his brother tilted back his head and started chuckling. His laughter followed Flynn all the way down the aisle. 
The walk did nothing to slow her pulse or cool her inflamed cheeks. Evie kept rubbing her elbow—the one where he’d gripped her—hoping that the motion would make that sensation go away faster. Her neck was still tingling where he’d ... What had he been doing? Smelling her? And when she’d reached up to push him away ... She was still enthralled by his chest, the way it had relaxed under her hand, the muscles shifting and realigning. God, it had been forever since she’d even touched a man like that ...
And his voice—so deep and sexy that she would happily melt if he’d whisper something sweet to her. Instead, his words—I couldn’t stop thinking about you—echoed in her ears. Reality had intruded instantly. He’d pulled out the perfect line and the red flag went up. What was wrong with her? This was only the second time she’d ever seen him! She’d just learned his name! And she was at work! There was no way in hell she was going to start anything with this mystery man.
She was facing the ‘Employees Only’ doors when a warm, rough hand caught her wrist. Before she could yelp in surprise, she found herself spinning around, back pressed against the shelves. Flynn was standing in front of her, his chest heaving.
‘Where are you going?’
Lust shot through her, overriding the fear she knew she should have felt, would have felt if it had been Trevor or one of his ilk doing this. But there was something different about Flynn, and it wasn’t just the way he was looking at her. His grip tightened on her wrist—not painfully, but possessively. His other arm went up as he leaned against the shelving, effectively boxing her in with his body without making any further contact.
To her horror, she went warm and liquid in places she shouldn’t. ‘Let go of me,’ she whispered.
His eyes were green. A bright, mind blowing green. And they were staring into hers intently, daring her to lean in closer, to taste those sinful lips …
Work. She was at work.
Evie tried to wiggle free of his grasp, but he ignored her. ‘Please let go of me,’ she said again, her conviction dwindling.
This time his eyes left hers, and he looked down at his hand. In surprise, it seemed. He released her immediately, but before she could breathe in relief, his arm was up by her head, blocking her view down the aisle.
‘Evie,’ he demanded in a firm, but gentle tone, ‘where are you going?’
‘I need to clean up my station,’ she said quickly, focusing on the facts. ‘It has to be clean before I can leave.’
And then all rational thought left her because his hand was now cupping her cheek, his thumb running lazily across her jaw line.
‘We’ll clean it.’ He leaned forward slightly, until his broad chest was nearly brushing against hers.
‘You’ll help me?’ she squeaked.
‘Of course I will.’ The hurt in his expression looked genuine. ‘What man wouldn’t?’
She hadn’t counted on that response. His sincerity broke down her resistance faster than any well-planned lines ever could have. ‘Oh. Well, thank you.’
His half-smile was radiant but especially when it was directed at her.
‘What about that guy you were with?’ she asked, painfully aware of his thumb’s slow movement and the knowledge that she was quickly running out of excuses—and self-righteous indignation.
‘He’s my brother. And he’s an ass. Ignore him. If we’re lucky, he’ll go away.’
She opened her mouth to protest one last time, but he put a finger gently against her lips, softly tracing them before pulling away. Unconsciously, she licked them, a motion that arrested his attention.
The green eyes flashed. Something in his chest began to rumble, a sound so erotic in her charged state that she thought she’d melt into a puddle at his feet. She fought back a moan and tried to refocus.
‘Space,’ she finally croaked out. ‘I need space.’
He pushed back from the shelves—a whopping two inches. Great.
　

Author Biography:
Marion Audrey Grant is fortunate to live in the rugged beauty of Alaska's Kenai Peninsula. She's believed in happy endings and true love since she was very young, when her parents would read her Mercer Meyer's books　Beauty and the Beast　and　East of the Sun, West of the Moon. At the time, she could only look at the pictures and pretend to understand the words. Later in life, the realization that she had stories of her own to tell would lead her to graduate college with majors in Creative Writing and English. Thanks to her husband’s unending support, she now works as a scribe to the intelligent women and wounded heroes who need their stories told.

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