supernatural

The latest in the Stranger Creatures series!

Kylie Claremont wants answers. She was the victim of a brutal experiment that caused her to develop telekinetic abilities. The position she’s offered as a liaison between Shifters United and the Psy Guild will give her the chance to find the elusive research company that disappeared after experimenting on her and bring them to justice. The only thing standing in her way is an arrogant coyote shifter who is convinced that Kylie is a threat to shifters and shouldn’t be allowed to be a part of Shifters United. She never expected to fall for the gruff, mistrusting man.

Coyote shifter Trevor Ryland will never trust the psy. Still, he knows the time has come to strengthen the tentative alliance between shifters and psy. He fully intends to ignore his attraction to the beautiful psy liaison, but he’d never forgive himself if something happened to her. His plan to protect Kylie from afar is wrecked when they’re forced to work together. She could be his mate but Trevor can’t let that happen. The struggle to deny his need for the one woman with the power to destroy him gets harder every day.

Trevor and Kylie uncover a web of greed and deceit during their search for a travelling research group. They’ll have to work fast and fight hard to stop the CEO’s latest plans or shifters and psy everywhere will suffer.

EXCERPT:

Kylie told Trevor, “I’ve heard about coyotes’ trust issues, as well as some of their other issues. Believe me, as much you want nothing to do with me, not even for a fun, adrenaline come-down session, I have no desire to spend any unnecessary time around you either.”

He wanted to tell her that being with her that night would have been so much more than a quick moment in the sheets to ride the adrenaline high of a rescue nearly gone wrong, but he didn’t dare, instead he signed, “I don’t blame you for not wanting anything to do with me.”

Kylie glared at him. “And no offense but coyotes seem wired wrong if they can’t deal with a break up or a backstabbing. When someone screws you over, you’re supposed to cry, punch things, get a little more cynical, maybe exact a plan for petty revenge, and then move on.”

She’d twisted a knife into the heart of the truth. Coyote shifters were wired just a little wrong. They were more feral than other shifters and needed more time in their animal form. Their curving canines were designed for causing maximum pain and damage. Their claws could shred any living creature in seconds. Coyotes were often gruff and not too sociable but they used their strength and abilities to protect the people who needed protecting.

“Yes. I’m,”since he didn’t know the sign for the word defective, he signed “broken,”then added, “and not good to people who deserve better.”

She closed her eyes and took in a breath as if she were gathering strength for something. When she met his gaze again, he couldn’t look away. She had the most beautiful eyes, whether they were cold or angry or full of passion. Hell, if he could tell a joke and hear her laugh again like she had in her hotel room, her light might destroy him. Not happening. She thinks I’m defective anyway.

Purchase Links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BZT58GXZ

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/coyotes-vow-christina-lynn-lambert/1143274092?ean=2940185830819

Apple iBooks: https://books.apple.com/us/book/coyotes-vow/id6447381379?ign-itscg=30200&ign-itsct=books_box_link

Kobo Books: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/coyote-s-vow

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1370196

Google Books: Coyote’s Vow by Christina Lynn Lambert – Books on Google Play

Author Bio:

Before I had the wild idea to write a book, I worked in a few different fields. I was in sales for a while, and after I finished college, I worked as a case manager. When my children were little, I was a personal trainer and running coach. During the evenings, when I was supposed to be studying for another fitness training certification, I started writing a story. Finally, I gave in and acknowledged that writing is what I’m meant to do. I love creating imperfect but determined characters who find the courage to love and the strength to survive in a world where there are no guarantees. My stories include a fair amount of sarcasm, suspense, steam, and violence. When I’m not writing, I enjoy spending time outside and finding ways to avoid cooking. I live in beautiful Virginia with my husband, two teenagers, a sweet, hairy monster of a dog, and two devious cats. 

Author Social Media Links:

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Christina-Lynn-Lambert/e/B01MCYK0K7

BookBub:  https://www.bookbub.com/authors/christina-lynn-lambert

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/christinalynnlambert

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15900423.Christina_Lynn_Lambert

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/christinalynnlambert

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/christinalynnlambert

Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/chris4lamb

WordPress: https://christinalynnlambertwordpress.com

Playing with fire can be deadly #MFRWHooks

My latest book is out, a supernatural thriller called REMNANTS OF FIRE. Here’s the story:

Looking for a fresh start, Sara Woods takes a job as a news reporter in a small town. Her first assignment for the Ralston Courier is to investigate of a string of deaths, all young women, all her age.

To deal with chronic back pain, she seeks help at a local healing center. She soon becomes convinced that there is something strange about the Goldstone Clinic. Its doctors and nurses are all the picture of perfect beauty and health, while their patients at first seem to improve and then mysteriously deteriorate.

Dr. Rick Paulsen, a physician at the local hospital, offers to teach Sara how to access her internal power, enhancing hidden skills and revealing secrets from her past. Police officer Brendon Zale also takes an interest in Sara, watching her every move and trying to get close to her.

The deeper she digs into the Goldstone, the harder it is to deny links to the paranormal. Can she
figure out what is going on and who to trust before it’s too late?

BUY LINKS:

Paperback at Amazon • Paperback at Barnes & Noble • Hardback at Barnes & Noble • eBook at Amazon Kindle • eBook at Apple Books • eBook at Barnes & Noble • eBook at Kobo Books • eBook at Smashwords

EXCERPT:

Of all the corpses I’d seen in six years as a news reporter, Lily Kimball’s hit me the hardest. Found in a drainage ditch along Route 24, two inches deep in snow, she wore only a shabby pair of Banana Republic jeans and a red jersey shirt, a dried clot of blood on her forehead where she’d taken a header into a discarded bottle.

In the half-light before dawn, two CSI-types crouched in front of the body taking pictures and samples, thick parka vests protecting them against the thirty-degree early March chill. Each breath left their cold lips as a mist of water vapor.

“Damnedest thing I ever saw,” the lead investigator said to the waiting medic from the volunteer ambulance service, “Why the hell would some girl be out here in the middle of a snowstorm without shoes, without a coat?”

Good question as far as I was concerned. I was freezing my butt off, despite a hoodie under my jacket, black sweat pants and fur-lined boots. I couldn’t return to the office until I had some answers. So far, all I had was her name, thanks to the CSI techs. No evidence of blunt trauma, no gunshots, no bruising—it didn’t even look like the girl had been tossed out of a car. I angled my pad to catch the headlights of the cop car and scribbled some notes, numb fingers slipping on the pen.

“Your tech pulled a bank debit card from her pocket. Maybe she needed cigarettes or something.” I gestured toward the lights of the all-night market a mile or so further along where the road

intersected with Declan Highway.

The officer’s glare roasted his techs for sharing information, then he eyed me. “Who’re you again?”

“Sara Woods, for the Ralston Courier.” I tilted my laminated badge so he could read it.

He squinted at the black and white picture of a pixie-like brunette with a slightly crooked smile, then compared it to my pixie-like face, much more florid in the wintry wind. I tried for the smile, too, in case it helped. “New blood, huh?”

“Just started. I’m covering for O’Neal this weekend.”

The officer chuckled. “He’ll be pissed. He loves dead bodies.” The medic snickered along with him and they walked away, back to the running patrol car. The heated, running patrol car.

With a disappointed shiver, I observed the techs. They hadn’t disturbed the body much, other than to rule out major trauma. Lily’s skin was icy white, her black hair patchy, so thin it lay atop the snow. Bony stick fingers and toes were dark red, almost violet, from frostbite at the bare tips. It seemed like she’d just fallen over into the ditch. Just let go, dead.

Satisfied with their photos, the techs turned over the stiff body. The girl’s pale, sightless eyes stared into the gray miasma of the late winter sky. Nausea crept from my stomach toward my throat. She had to be about my age, twenty-something; about my size too, although those fingers were wickedly thin. What would have compelled me to leave home in a blizzard, half-dressed, ending in a frozen ditch with my life sucked out? I didn’t know what could cause such desperation.

But the goosebumps that rippled across my skin told me it was still out there, lurking.

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