Excerpt:

The cop watched me closely as I pressed the victim’s neck, stemming the flow of blood. So, she was a policewoman and this charade an elaborate trap to capture the Full Moon Murderer. My blundering about in the dark may just have saved Simon from their clutches, and saved some policeman’s life into the bargain. When cornered, werewolves can be fearsome things.

In the harsh light of his torch the dogberry’s face had a jagged look about it; deep set eyes, bushy eyebrows and well formed lips. It was a face with character, I thought, and my libido went into overdrive. Despite the threat he posed, or maybe because of it, my nipples had hardened inside my blouse and the heat in my pussy went up a few degrees. He was fit and strong, his pheromones potent, and I wanted him like none other.

“Do you mind telling me who the hell you are?”

“Justine Price.”

“And what the hell are you doing in here?”

“Hopefully saving this woman’s life.”

“I mean in the park.”

“Research,” I said off the top of my head. I hadn’t considered a cover story.

“What the hell?”

“I’m a freelance journalist,” I lied. “I’m writing an article about the murders.”

“Jesus Christ. You could have been killed.”

“Sorry if I mucked up your trap. I didn’t realize you were a dogberry.”

He reacted to the disguised insult, which surprised me. Not many cops would recognize the name of a Shakespearian fool if they fell over him. “This is not ‘Much Ado About Nothing’,” he said through clenched teeth. “Three women have died. If we’re lucky, Officer Meyer will pull through. She may have gotten a good look at him.”

I stilled my reaction to his rebuke. He was right, this was serious, though I doubted Officer Meyer would have anything useful to contribute. She’d have an impossible story of being attacked by a wolf.

On closer inspection, her wounds were superficial it seemed to me. Simon hadn’t a chance to do any real damage. He’d swiped her across the face, knocking her unconscious. She’d have some deep scars, which was a pity. From what I could see in the torchlight, Meyer had been pretty.

I took a deep breath. My body was vibrating with desire like a violin string. Panic stirred in my belly. I had to get away from this dogberry before I betrayed myself. “Well, I’ve had enough excitement for one night,” I said. “I’m off home.”

“Not so fast. Did you see anything?”

“Not really. Just shadows.”

“I distinctly heard you yell, ‘Get away from her’. Who were you talking to?”

“Just a shadow. He was crouching over her and scrambled away, so I didn’t see anything at all.”

“Scrambled?” His voice was surprised as I hoped he would be. “He didn’t stand up? You don’t know how tall he was?”

I shrugged. “No, sorry. If I didn’t know any better, and I know it sounds crazy, I would have said it was a dog.”

“A dog?”

I’d said it as doubtfully as I could, planting a seed. “Listen, I just saw shadows, okay?”

His features contorted into a frown. “Her wounds do look like scratches, don’t they?”

“It couldn’t be a dog?” I asked innocently. “Could it?”

The paramedics arrived and shoved us unceremoniously out of the way.

The cop took me aside, his hand gripping me by the elbow, and led me up the path towards the gates and the waiting police cars. I let him guide me though I had to restrain myself. Despite my lust for him, I don’t like being pushed around by humans. Few wolfen do.

He asked me a few more perfunctory questions. I tried to calm my buzzing heart so I could concentrate. It was like a curtain had smothered my conscious mind, and out of the slumbering brain my beast was clawing its way out. A wave of vertigo swept through me. I was afraid of losing control. I closed my eyes and counted till the dizziness passed.

When I opened my eyes he still filled my whole field of view, silhouetted against the cool lights of the city’s skyline. He was tall, built like a swimmer with wide shoulders and a narrow waist. He hovered over me as he took a look at my driver’s license and wrote down my address and phone number. An eager colleague called him back to the scene of the crime and he growled in frustration. He escorted me to a police car and told a policewoman to drive me home despite my protests.

“Thank you for giving Officer Meyer first aid,” he said.

“Don’t mention it.”

“I may have some more questions at a later date.”

“I’d be glad to help.” I was eager to get away. As I climbed into the patrol car I gazed up at him. “I’m sorry about the elbow. But I didn’t know who you were. You smell like Falstaff.”

A laugh escaped him. “Sorry about my disguise.”