Picture you're riding the bus home from work, with the very first newspaper article every published under your byline clutched in your hot little hand, when a coked-up idiot attempts to hold up everyone on the bus. He takes a dislike to you and is about to slice you open when a large, gorgeously hairy man attacks him and saves your life. Only your rescuer is not a man, but a giant wolf who leaves a bloody pawprint on your newspaper, all over your precious byline . . . If you're an intrepid reporter, you don't panic. You run for the newsroom to get a photo of the pawprint before it disappears . . . because the paper you work for thrives on stories of alien invasions and Elvis sightings and Bigfoot's baby, and this, unlike all of those stories, this is real. Of course, it's not that simple. The highly civilized Denver werewolves don't want anyone to know of their existence, not even beautiful young reporters who make Lucas, the leader of the pack, think lustful thoughts. But Lucas and his pack have a much bigger problem to deal there's another were-pack hunting in their territory—and being messy about it. If the police solve any of those brutal, apparently random, murders, Denver's more patrician lycanthropes may wind up in big trouble.