Pull up a chair, romance junkies, because you’re going to need one. Read on and you’ll see why, but one of my favorite authors, people really, has loaned us her newest hero for this week’s character chat. (If you haven’t read her other work, she writes rockin’ hot heroes). So, please welcome Dan “Wolf” Wolford, the hero of Santa Wore Leathers by the irrepressible Vonnie Davis!
Hiya, Wolf! Thanks for taking time out of your busy schedule to speak to a group of romance readers. Becca told me you balked when I first asked you to do the interview.
WOLF: (squirms in seat) Yes, I did. Your request sounded too much like a reporter wanting to interview me, and I have a real problem with reporters.
MAC: Isn’t Becca a reporter?
WOLF: Yes, she is and a damn good one too. But in the beginning of our relationship, I wasn’t very trusting of her. You see, my family lost our parents in a terrible fire set by an arson. Reporters hounded my younger sisters to the point Cassie, my baby sister, fell apart. I resigned my commission with the SEALS to come home and finish raising them. It took me a long time to get Cassie straightened out. She’s doing great now, but she really had me worried for a while. I don’t think she’d have sunk to such depths if the reporters hadn’t followed her everywhere, invaded every part of her life when she was numb with shock after losing Mom and Dad. So, reporters are not my favorite people.
MAC: I understand. Your dislike of Becca’s profession must have created some tension between you two.
WOLF: Tension? Oh, you have no idea the tension that woman caused me. Every day she’d go jogging with her dog. I’m telling you, the woman’s got these long, shapely legs that go clean to her waist. I’ve got drool marks on my front window from watching her jog past. And the first time I kissed her? Hell, I damn near forgot my name. Then there was the time she rode up on her crotch rocket in a pair of leather pants. I was hanging Christmas lights and nearly fell off the ladder when she leaned over and…
MAC: Uh, Wolf. I asked about her job.
WOLF: (Flashes a one-dimpled smile) Oh yeah. You meant a different kind of tension, didn’t you? Her job was something I had to work through and I thought I had at one point. Then something happened and my old attitude reared its ugly head.
MAC: Well, geez. Don’t stop there. What happened?
WOLF: I acted the ass and lost Becca for a while. Had to do a bit of groveling.
MAC: *humms low in her throat* I do love to see a good looking man grovel.
WOLF: *Slides to the edge of his seat, his muscled forearms between spread thighs* Hell, Mac, I even wrote a damn poem.
MAC: *coughs on a laugh* You didn’t!
WOLF: I did, and it worked too. *winks* I got the girl in the end. The girl and her thong-stealing dog.
MAC: *grins slyly* Becca faxed me a picture of you.
WOLF: Really? Let me guess. Me and Einstein, her German Shepherd?
MAC: *shakes head*
WOLF: Bet it’s the one of me in my SCUBA gear. She likes that one.
MAC: *leans head to the side* No. *ahem* I’d say you’re more out of your gear here. *extends photo to Wolf*
MAC: Oh, Sweetie. You call that a sick sense of humor. The romance junkies and I call it pure eye candy… er, good taste.*winks*
There’s only one thing on Becca Sinclair’s Christmas list this holiday season – her very own column in the local paper. And if she can build a huge blog following, her wish just might come true.
Enter Dan “Wolf” Wolford aka the man-whore next door and the new star of Becca’s popular, post-divorce blog about men. A Navy SEAL turned commander of the Florida Marine Rescue Unit, Wolf’s the very definition of the word alpha – and with an endless rotation of women on his doorstep, this hunk on a Harley has Becca and her female followers all hot and bothered!
All Becca wants for Christmas is her newspaper column, right? But when she finds herself the target of Wolf’s irresistible attentions, her snarky comebacks become less and less convincing and, suddenly, she’s not so sure anymore…
Wolf strode to her townhouse, rang the doorbell and waited.
Finally, her door opened, and he was greeted with a scowl.
“What?” She tugged the lapels of her short white silky robe together.
“I…ah…” His gaze snagged on all those ample curves showcased by the slinky material. I…ah…”
“You said that already.” She fisted a hand on her hip.
Einstein cannonballed around Becca with something red clamped in his jaws. He streaked across the grass, his strong muscles propelling him as he circled both of their yards.
“Get back in here!” Becca pointed into her house.
Einstein loped across the grass and shrubbery, ignoring his owner’s command.
Maybe if he acted the hero and returned the pet to its owner, he’d gain a few brownie points. “Stay here. I’ll get him.” Wolf took off after the dog. Seeing he was being chased only made Einstein run faster. Wolf followed him twice around the yard in front of Becca’s house. The dog leapt over a flowerbed and stopped, his head lowered, shaking his prize, his hind end elevated, wiggling in excitement.
“Give me that.” Wolf stepped to the right around the flowerbed. The dog trotted to the left. In a quick move, he sprinted to the left and the dog dashed to the right. “Think you’re smart, don’t you?” He could have sworn the dog smiled. Wolf leapt across the blooms, hoping to grab the smartass canine. Once he’d grabbed the collar, they rolled, and Einstein yelped. Wolf grimaced as he, too, rolled across a low-growing cactus and into the trunk of a palm tree. “Dammit.”
The dog whined and dropped the fabric to lick and bite at the prickly thorns in his groin.
“Easy now, Einstein.” Wolf cooed as he slipped his Swiss army knife from the front pocket of his jeans.
“What’s wrong? What’s going on? What are you doing with that knife?” Becca tugged on the hem of her short robe and glanced up and down the street as if she thought to run out into the yard.
“Stay where you are. He’ll be fine. He’s got some thorns in his hide.” Wolf removed the tweezers stored in a slot of the knife and began extracting the offending needles. “We can’t have an awesome fella like you in pain now, can we?” He worked as quickly as he could. “One more, big guy, and then you’ll be fine.” The dog licked him several times. “Yeah, I like you too. Let’s keep what I’m about to do just between us, shall we?” He ran his fingers over the affected groin area, keeping his attentions on the dog’s reactions. “Looks like we got them all.”
“What in blue blazes are you doing to that dog? Are you performing some kind of ‘beasty-wildy’ on him?” Mrs. Minelli, his neighbor, punctured the air with her cane, her white eyebrows arched in question.
He fought the urge to laugh. “No, Mrs. Minelli. I was taking out thorns.”
She cocked her head to the side, her cataract-clouded eyes widened. “In his penis?”
AMAZON ~ http://bit.ly/SantaLeathers
BARNES & NOBLE ~ http://bit.ly/1846Aau
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