"Bernie," Tor said, reaching for her. She leaned into his grasp and allowed herself to be drawn inside, as if some part of her had crumpled inwardly at the sympathetic touch. And Tor already had her inside before he remembered what she was going to see. His brother and sister had frozen in mid-argument, both with handfuls of their dad's fur as they tried to tug him back to wakefulness or at least out of the kitchen. "Is that ...?" Bernie began. She blinked and rubbed her eyes. It was possible to pass off a werewolf as a dog, but there was absolutely no mistaking a polar bear for anything else. There was a polar bear lying in the middle of the kitchen. A very large, very shaggy bear. And Tor's brother and sister were both frozen in the act of trying to pick it up. "Oh, hi!" Inga said, very brightly. She dropped her double handful of Stieg's ruff, allowing his head to clunk to the floor—his tongue was lolling out now—and strode forward with a hand held out. There were long white strands of polar bear fur all over her shirt. "You must be Tor's mate—uh—friend! Hi! I'm Tor's sister. I'm Inga. What's your name?" Bernie kept trying to peer around her, where Eren had given up trying to shake the bear awake and instead delivered a swift kick to his backside. The bear grunted, rolled over, and started snoring. "I, uh, I'm Bernie," said Bernie. "Is your—um—is your bear all right?" "He's drunk," Eren said darkly. Tor could have pushed him through the trap door at that moment. "Your ... bear is drunk," Bernie said. Compared to this, even trying to deal with a demon cat destroying her curtains, her backseat, and everything else she owned seemed halfway normal. Jump into a brand new series from Zoe Chant, featuring a beautiful, magical shifter town, a sexy, protective hero with a chaotic polar bear family, a tough heroine picking up the pieces of her shattered heart, a maybe-haunted lighthouse ... and a cat only his owner could love.

Eren wasn't expecting the stowaway to be so small or so ... female. He let go in surprise. She immediately tried to duck around him. Eren grabbed her around the waist. She started kicking him. For someone who didn't weigh half what he did, she was extremely energetic. "Let me go!" she yelled, struggling. In his attempt to contain her, Eren stumbled into the wall and bashed his head on the ceiling, which was low enough that he normally had to duck. "Whoa, hey, I'm not going to hurt you! I'm just trying to stop you from hurting yourself—or us. There's nowhere to go out there, just water. We're on a boat, after all." She was starting to relax in his arms, though it was the tense kind of relaxation that suggested she might be gearing up for another fight. "If I put you down, will you be easy about it? This is my family's fishing boat. I just want to talk." "Okay," she said after a moment. Eren carefully set her down. He was prepared to stop her if she tried to make another break for it—he didn't want to have to fish her out of the sea—but she stayed where she was, and as the light coming down the stairs from the pilothouse fell across her face, he got a look at her for the first time. She was beautiful. She was his mate. Return to Westerly Cove and the Nilsson family in the second book in the Westerly Cove series, with love, laughs, heat, and a guaranteed HEA.

This mysterious island hermit managed to avoid entanglements ... until she walked into his cabin. Mira froze. It wasn't fear. It was a strange mix of curiosity, compulsion, and desire. He was bare to the waist, and she hadn't been wrong about his strong, muscular body. There wasn't a scrap of fat on him anywhere, just lean muscle rippling beneath light bronze skin dusted with curls of dark hair. His face was broad and handsome, with a nose that was just a little crooked as if it had been broken once. Dark hair framed high cheekbones and a strong jaw. His eyes were just as startling green as the ones she had been dreaming about. They weren't pure green, but rather, had a ring of dark blue around the iris and fine threads of amber and brown. Summer forest eyes, striking and pure. For a moment the two of them stared at each other, as if he somehow found her as captivating as she found him. Then he stood up suddenly, and she was entranced all over again by the flowing, rapid grace of his movements. The blanket fell away, making Mira intensely aware that he was wearing nothing but a pair of beat-up jeans slung low enough over his hips that a dusting of dark curls were visible above the waistband. "Dane," he said. His voice was deep and rough, as if he didn't use it much. "What?" Mira said dazedly, wrenching her gaze to his face. "Dane," he repeated. Then he seemed to run it back in his head. "My name. I'm Dane."