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However an unfortunate yet chanced incident brings Zander to her rescue. Could he really be the man of her dreams? Will he teach her exactly how to harness her special shape shifting abilities before it is too late?
In a story of love, lies and romance Camilla finds herself in the arms of a handsome shape sifting white tiger that will stop at nothing to protect her.
Publisher's Note: "Untamed Passion" is an erotic paranormal romance novella that includes sexual scenes, anal play, and elements of BDSM. If such material offends you, please don't buy this book.
The loud screeching of tires cut through the quietness of the night, like a powerful unexpected blast of thunder. Something terrible had happened; he could just feel it in his gut. Without hesitation, Zander dropped his wrench, slammed the hood of his old Ford truck shut and rushed out of the garage. The musty smell of burnt rubber on wet pavement caught his senses as he dashed into the wooded area. Running as fast as his two feet could take him was not good enough so he decided that it would be best to shift at that moment. Closing his eyes, he increased his speed and his breathing became heavy, breathless, urgent pants.
His chest grew in size beneath his gray shirt and the fabric tore apart as he burst free from it. Ripping it from his body, Zander tossed it to the side like a small ball of trash, focusing solely on his destination. As he raced through the woods his veins and muscles throbbed viciously inside him. With a loud roar he unleashed his inner beast, shifting into his other state of being swiftly and with ease.
He emerged from the woods and leaped onto the road a strong, proud, white tiger. Immediately he saw it, a red sedan tipped on its side in the ditch a few feet ahead. Something else caught his attention, it was another animal; an unfriendly creature clawing at the front door of the vehicle. With a fierce roar Zander distracted it and when their eyes met he issued an unspoken threat.� The black panther gave a low growl and a few seconds later it took off, intimidated by Zander’s dangerous look. For several years now Zander and his streak of tigers, had been secretly protecting the people of their hometown from these terrifying creatures of the night.
Shifting back to his human form he strode across the empty road to the car, a tall, muscular naked man. His magnificent rampant physique was like that of a Greek God and his golden brown complexion seemed to glow as the moonlight reflected upon him. There was a lonesome woman in the driver’s seat with her head leaning against the steering wheel. “Hello, can you move?” He tapped on the front door glass, trying to see if she was conscious.
Lifting her head up slowly, the stranger muttered a reply dozing in and out of consciousness. Blood; thick and red, trickled down her temple from an open wound. The door was locked and he needed to get it open quickly. Gripping its handle with both hands, he pulled with all his might and was finally able to get to her. As Zander scooped her somewhat limp body into his strong, manly arms, her eyes peeked open and gratitude lingered in them. Her lips parted and as she attempted to thank him, he advised her to save her strength. Although her body felt good against him, he was thankful that she was not fully aware of what was happening around her.� She’d probably go into cardiac arrest, if she knew that her rescuer was a completely naked man.� He hated shifting because of that minor detail.
As he nestled her body upon the soft bed of grass lining the roadside, his gaze fell on hers. Her sparkly baby blue eyes seemed to speak to his very soul, he had to admit to himself that she was indeed a stunningly gorgeous young woman. Confusion lurked in the back of his mind; he was usually not attracted to humans. He scolded himself silently for his lust filled thoughts during such a crucial time. Zander narrowed his attention back to her wound, but was shocked by what he saw. Her cut was slowly healing itself.� How was this possible?
His eyes found hers yet again, however, this time a mysterious darkness beamed from them.� Right then, he knew exactly what she was. However, judging from the innocent look on her face, he figured she was merely a cub; a young tigress who hadn’t shifted before, ever. She didn’t seem to know about her special abilities either. Breathing a sigh of relief, the uneasy feeling that he felt initially about his attraction dissipated and a warm feeling touched his heart. He now understood why he’d been so drawn to her; it all made sense. She was also a shape shifter. The way his heart beat for her, Zander realized that she was much more than just another shape shifter, she was his soul mate. He was drawn to her physically and emotionally. Gently he stroked the side of her soft cheek assuring her that everything would be alright.
A winsome smile graced her features and she brought her hands to his chest, “Thank you,” she uttered, her voice sweet and low.
“You’re welcome.” He realized that aside from her wound healing she was slowly coming back to reality and regaining her strength.
“I see you enjoy fraternizing with strangers.” The voice of an older man caught his attention.
“She’s not a stranger. Father, she’s one of us,” Zander replied with confidence, turning to the man standing behind him.� “I’m just trying to help her out.”
“You may want to put these on then. I don’t think she’ll take kindly to you helping her out while you’re like this.” The man held out a pair of jeans to him so he could cover up his nakedness.
“Thanks.” Zander threw the jeans on and then narrowed his attention back to the young woman.
His father walked over to the vehicle and without too much effort he pulled it out of the ditch.� Surprisingly, aside from the long scratches on the door that had been the result of the panther trying to claw its way to her, the sedan seemed barely damaged from the accident.
He helped her to the vehicle and after ensuring that all was well with her, Zander watched as she drove off into the night. In his heart he hoped that he would one day see her again. Although they hadn’t exchanged information about themselves, he was happy to have met her regardless of the circumstances surrounding their first encounter.
Weeks before the accident
Camilla wrestled in her sleep, viciously tossing and turning on her bed as the horrible nightmare intensified. Her eyes shot open suddenly and she gasped for air as if she’d been shocked back to life with a defibrillator. Gripping her chest firmly she tried to calm her shaken nerves with a series of slow deep breaths. “Oh God.” She sighed to herself, pulling her body up into a sitting position and tucking several loose strands of her unruly dark hair behind her ears.
For two weeks now, she’d been having exactly the same nightmare and tonight was no different. Her twenty-fifth birthday was around the corner and she feared that perhaps she was stressing herself out about it. Several years ago a vibrant young twenty-five year old woman passed away shortly after giving birth to a precious baby girl. That woman was her mother.
This was perhaps the underlying cause of her problem, she pondered silently in the darkness of her room. Ironically, while most people bubbled with excitement as their birthdays’ dawned on them, Camilla was both anxious and terrified of hers. “Get over it girl. Everything’s gonna be okay,” she gave herself the usual pep talk. It always perplexed her as to how connected she still felt to her mother considering the fact that they’d never met. All she’d seen were photos; beautiful images of a stunning brunette who looked somewhat like her sister.
Flipping the soft cotton sheet, that she’d been snuggling under, to the side. Camilla rolled over to the edge of her cherry, oak platform bed.� As her bare feet made contact with the hardwood floor, a chill rushed through her body and she quickly found herself a pair of fluffy pink bunny slippers. The sound of the television blaring from the living room alerted her that Karen was home tonight. Camilla could hear her guffawing at whatever she was watching. Looking at the small alarm clock on her nightstand, she noted the time, 11:10 pm. However, judging from the way the other young woman was carrying on in the living room, one would think that it was perhaps midday.
Prior to Karen moving in, she’d heard different accounts about how living with a roommate could be. Some roommates became good friends, others tolerated each other, and some became sworn enemies. However, nothing anyone told her quite prepared her for this. She’d assumed that it would not be a bed of roses, but this was far worse than anything she’d imagined. It was like a home invasion that would not end. The fact that Karen never, ever picked up after herself made Camilla wonder whether she’d been brought up by a pack of wolves.
Clearly her roommate had lied during their first encounter when she described herself as a neat and organized person. Or she surely didn’t know what these two words meant. As a professional housekeeper and part-time college student, the last thing Camilla wanted to do when she got home was clean up after someone other than herself. She knew that sooner or later she would need to have another conversation with Karen;the respecttalk, again.
“That must have been some dream you were having,” the young woman teased as Camilla not so stealthily crept across the living room in an attempt to go by unnoticed.
Stopping on the tip of a toe, she turned to Karen timidly. “Yeah, it was a terrible nightmare,” she replied.� She continued on her way to the kitchen. Perhaps Karen had heard her struggling in her sleep, she assumed.
“Wanna talk about it?” she asked with uncertainty, her body slumped onto the mauve sofa with her legs stretched out on the coffee table.
“Not really.” Camilla shrugged her shoulders, secretly hoping that Karen would just let her be. A glass of water and some fresh air was all she needed to clear her head and she would feel better.
“Well, you know what I’ve been telling you.� You may want to take my advice.” Karen chuckled.
“I’m not that type of girl, Karen. Sorry.”
“Oh come on. It’ll be fun!” Her voicebeamed with excitement. “Think of it as a stress reliever. It will definitely put an end to your sleepless nights.”
“I don’t think a one night stand is going to help me!” Camilla called out from the kitchen.
“Not a one night stand.� Think of it as sex therapy. Hot, intense, mind blowing sex therapy.” She laughed playfully.
“Yeah, yeah, I hear ya,” Camilla retorted, bringing the glass to her lips and taking a sip of the soothing water. “I’m sure you think that having more sex can lead to world peace as well,” she added, her voice laced with sarcasm.
“Right on, girl!” A roar of laughter sounded from the living room.� “I never even thought of that one. If people were busy getting busy, they’d be distracted from all the fighting,” she spoke to herself as if she’d just made some big revelation.
From day one, her roommate had made it clear that she needed some romance in her life.� She’d even said that Camilla’s life was as dull and boring as a blank sheet of paper. Although there may have been some truth to her assumption, Camilla had quickly come to realize that Karen’s answer to every problem seemed to be one thing. Sex.
Taking another sip of water, she tried to rid herself of the idea that the other woman had been trying to impose upon her. Camilla walked to the glass door that lead out onto the patio, slid it open and slipped her slender body through the crack. The stars were beautiful tonight and the moon was a luminous round ball nestled among them. As she stood there peering into the night, a gust of wind swept through the air brushing against her warm flesh. Deep down inside, she wished she could just forget about everything else and whisk off into darkness of the alluring night.
She wanted more out of life; she wanted to live freely without worrying about work, school or what people had to say. However, the freedom that she desperately yearned to have was somewhat impossible. Maybe if she’d been born into wealth she would have been able to do just that. But regular folks like her had to work. There were bills that needed to be paid, realistic goals to achieve and crazy roommates to deal with. Things weren’t as simple as she wished it was.
Plopping her body down onto her father’s old rocking chair, she allowed herself to reminisce about happier times. There were nights when he’d sit her on his lap and read to her, rocking gently, until she dozed off to sleep in his arms. Of course she was a child then and now this was all just a memory. She still couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that he was no longer with her. She most certainly abhorred death; it had robbed her of a mother and a father.
“Still thinking about that nightmare?” A voice from behind distracted her from her thoughts. Karen stood there, a few inches from her, raking her hand through her silky long black hair. She drew in closer, sitting down on the step. Smoke filled the air around her and Camilla coughed loudly as if she was trapped in a burning building.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot,” Karen quickly apologized, nipping the tip of cigarette beside her and putting the fire out. One of the first things she’d told Karen, on the day she moved in, was that smoking was not allowed in or around the house. The smoke did something to her, unlike most people who didn’t mind second hand smoke, Camilla was allergic to it. Her lungs felt like they were constricting whenever she inhaled the least bit of smoke.
“Just want you to know that I’m here if you ever want to talk about anything,” Karen added. Her voice had a calm sincerity in it that made Camilla realize that perhaps there was more to her than just her sex driven persona. In all honesty Camilla sensed that the young woman sitting here with her in that moment was not the type of girl to watch someone hurt without trying to help.
“Thanks, that’s very kind of you.” She smiled, contented that for the first time in weeks she’d seen a softer side to her roommate.
She deliberated for a few minutes, trying to decide whether she should divulge her personal information to Karen. Camilla finally caved in and opened up to her, retelling the events of her nightmare. Maybe she knew a thing or two about dreams and their interpretations. Karen assured her that the nightmare meant nothing serious; it was just birthday anxiety getting the best of her.� “You’re probably right, I just need to think positive thoughts,” Camilla said as she smiled, trying to convince herself of what she was saying.