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About the author:
Kristen Strassel writes books about rock stars, vampires, and things that go bump in the night. After all, they tell you to write what you know. She is a passionate music fan who also loves football games and diner food. Kristen works as a makeup artist on film and TV shows when she’s not writing, and loves being behind the scenes. A former resident of Las Vegas, Kristen now lives in the Boston area.
What inspired you to write your book?
Lions toy with their prey before they kill it. I couldn’t get the idea out of my head. What if my lion fell for his prey instead? Lion and the Doe was born.
Here is a short sample from the book:
“Did you build this yourself?” I asked. Only someone’s home could have such rustic beauty.
“No. I found it, abandoned, and spruced it up.” Leo lit a candle, illuminating his blonde hair and hazel eyes in warm light. “There’s no electricity, or running water, but after a while, you don’t miss those things.”
No one in the herd expected to see me until spring, and Leo knew that. It sounded like he meant for me to stay here, with him. Yet, I was pretty sure he wasn’t one of us. Being welcome didn’t make this any less terrifying.
I didn’t know what to do. I covered myself again. Bathed in only candlelight in a tiny room made Leo look so much bigger than me. “It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you.” His smile was genuine, and he stepped toward me, putting his hands on my shoulders. My whole body tensed under his touch. His thumbs worked the aching muscles in the back of my neck, and any fear I had melted like the candle on the table. “Lay down on the bed.”
“Leo,” He knew so much about me, but he wouldn’t tell me what he was. Even if he was my actual mate, what he’d just suggested scared me. I’d expected to have more time before this happened. “I…I can’t.”
His hands kneaded my shoulders, and even though my brain protested, my body was on board with whatever he wanted. One more step, and he was close enough that his chest grazed mine, my nipples hardening against the rippling muscles of his stomach. His stubble brushed against my cheek as he whispered in my ear, “It’s exhausting to shift, isn’t?”
I nodded, wanting to protest, but it his fingers working my shoulders felt too good. “Are you my mate?” I’d never felt so exposed, so vulnerable in my life. “Everyone told me I’d know. But now I’m here with you, and I really don’t know if you’re….him.”