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These excerpts contain sexually explicit material. If you are not at least 18 years of age, please leave.
If you are 18 or older and are not offended by such material, please stay and enjoy!
Alexandra's Legacy
Book 1: Legacy
by N.J. Walters
 
Alexandra Riley’s day starts out like any other in her normal, predictable world. Then a tall, dark stranger bursts into her father’s garage and shatters the illusion. In one shocking moment, she discovers why she’s been feeling hot, restless—she’s the half-breed daughter of a legendary werewolf and is a much-sought-after prize.
Joshua Striker, enforcer in charge of protecting the alphas of the Wolf Creek pack, has come to take Alex home. Nothing more, nothing less. From the first moment he sees her, she becomes the one thing he can’t afford—a distraction from his duty. A weakness he doesn’t want—but can’t resist needing.
If only keeping her safe was as simple as fending off males on the hunt for a mate. Through city streets to the mountains of North Carolina, Alex and Joshua have to evade those who don’t want their pure bloodlines tainted with human DNA, as well as bounty hunters who think the only good werewolf is a dead one.
What Joshua and Alex can’t outrun is the passion that flares between them—or the choice Alex must eventually face. Whether to claim her inner wolf, or forfeit her chance to claim Joshua as her own.
 
"The action-packed plot kept me hanging on the edge of my seat with exciting anticipation eager to discover just how the breathtaking story would unfold. I can't wait to get my hands on the next thrilling novel in this series!"
5 Angels & Recommended Read—Contessa, Fallen Angel Reviews
"This book, from the beginning, is intense. It has what every top notch paranormal should have: action, passion, and wolfies, to die for...Alexandra’s Legacy is sizzling paranormal that will knock your socks off! Come cuddle up with NJ Walters' wolfies, and let the adventure begin"
5 Diva Review and a Recommended Read—Deb, Dark Diva Reviews
"N. J. Walters writes with such passion and gives so much to all of these characters. This is one to read more than once and enjoy every time. But don’t be surprised if your fingers blister just a bit; I promise it is worth it in the end."
5 Books—Holly, Long and Short Reviews
"What an awesome story! The characters really drive the plot forward and the author does a great job building their personalities while engaging your attention."
—Lisa Freeman, The Romance Studio
"This is an excellent story...I highly recommend this to paranormal romance lovers. You might want to get a fan - this story isn't just good - it's HOT!"
—Nancy Eriksen, Paranormal Romance Reviews
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Excerpt from Alexandra's Legacy
©2009 N.J. Walters
Her father jerked his head toward the back room. “I’ve got a small bag of coffee out back if you want some.”
“Do I ever. You’re a lifesaver.” Alex licked her lips. The taste she’d had was just enough to make her crave more. She watched as her father opened the brown paper bag and withdrew the muffins she’d picked up. “I’d better start a pot of coffee. Those few mouthfuls won’t hold either one of us for long.”
Leaving his watchful eyes behind, she hurried into the office area and grabbed the empty carafe. Stepping into the small bathroom, she thrust it beneath the water tap, allowing her thoughts to wander as it filled.
Alex was still was no closer to knowing exactly why she was so uneasy. The hair on the back of her neck seemed to be standing permanently on end, and on occasion she experienced a rippling beneath her skin that raised goose bumps on her flesh.
She hadn’t felt like herself for a few weeks now. The changes had been so gradual she hadn’t really noticed them at first. It was if her senses were heightened. Her skin felt too tight and at night it itched, not enough to make her scratch, but just enough to make her squirm.
The worst of it was the heat.
Lying alone in her single bed at night, a warm tingling would start between her thighs, little more than a flutter at first. Gradually the tingle became a deep, pulsing throb that made her writhe on top of her sheets, unable to bear even the light touch of the fabric against her skin.
The warmth grew within her, building rapidly until her skin felt as if it was on fire. Like a living creature, the heat slid over her belly, climbing up her ribs one at a time, until it enveloped her breasts. Her nipples puckered and tightened painfully. The only way to relieve the ache was for her to touch herself.
Only it never really helped, instead it drove the heat and need to higher levels. After the first few times it had happened, she’d learned to hold on tight to the sheets and ride out the painful desires that splintered through her, finally ending her nights sweat-soaked and completely exhausted.
The familiar heat washed over her now. Her nipples stiffened, pressing against the fabric of her cheap cotton bra. Low in her belly, her inner muscles clenched and her panties grew damp. She jerked her hand back as the water spilled over the side of the carafe. Swearing, she hauled it back and gave the tap twist, stopping the water flow.
Pouring out the excess, she strode back into the office. She dumped the water into the coffeemaker and slammed the carafe down onto the burner, wincing at the loud crack. She was damned lucky she hadn’t broken it. Grabbing the small bag of coffee, she opened it. The rich smell of coffee wafted up and she breathed deeply, inhaling the fragrant aroma. She found a spoon and loaded ground coffee into the filter. Flicking on the machine, she prayed it would be quick.
Stepping back to the doorway separating the garage from the office, she leaned against the doorframe and studied her father. He was about six-foot-two. She’d gotten her height from him. At five-foot-ten, she was a tall for a woman. She’d also inherited his strong, lithe build. Her father was deceptively strong. Many larger men had made the mistake of challenging him to a fight, assuming he’d be an easy mark. They quickly figured out their mistake.
They had the same colored hair too—brown, but with just about every shade or variation of that color from amber to mahogany. Her father’s shoulder length hair was tied back in a thong, but it was tinged with silver at the temples, making his appearance even fiercer. Alex kept her hair cut short on the back and sides, longer on the top. Made it easier to take care of. She wasn’t the type of woman to waste money on expensive beauty products or to primp in front of a mirror. Strictly a wash-and-go girl, the style suited her just fine.
Their eyes were very different. Her father’s eyes were a piercing golden-brown while hers were a pale, silvery gray. James Riley’s eyes were always searching, always aware of his surroundings, but when they settled on you it was as if he could see into your very soul.
For about the thousandth time, she wondered why he’d never married. Heck, he’d never even had a steady girlfriend. She wasn’t stupid. She knew that he went out prowling some nights and enjoyed female company, but he never brought any of them home. Did he ever get lonely?
Her mother had been a prostitute who’d tried to go straight and had gotten pregnant. When James Riley had discovered he was the father, he’d taken her into his home and looked after her until she’d had the baby. She’d run off just two days after Alex was born, unable to cope with motherhood. She’d never met the woman, didn’t know if she was even still alive and, truthfully, didn’t care. Having a kid to raise certainly hadn’t helped her father find a woman. Yet, he never once made her feel as though he’d have it any other way.
Raising her hand, she rubbed it over her breastbone. Maybe it was loneliness she was feeling at night as she lay in her bed. Maybe she was lonely. God only knows, she’d felt like a freak growing up. While other girls her age had been boy crazy, all she’d wanted to do was tinker in the garage with her father. She plain just wasn’t interested. She’d been kissed more than once, even engaged in some heavy petting in her teens, but she’d never had sex with a guy. It just hadn’t seemed worth the effort. Now, she wondered.
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Isaiah's Haven
Book 2: Legacy
by N.J. Walters
Isaiah Striker puts family first, the pack a distant second. Which is precisely the reason he’s in noisy, crowded Chicago instead of alone in his beloved woods. One look at the owner of Haven nightclub, however, and a simple favor for his brother turns into something else entirely.
Meredith Cross holds her small pack together with sheer determination. After years on the run, they hide in the glare of the city’s nightlife. Isaiah may heat her blood, but she can’t afford to risk the lives of the outcast half-breeds in her care. Once exposed, every bounty hunter and werewolf purist in smelling distance will hunt them down.
But when their sexual attraction spirals out of control, a moment’s distraction is all it takes to lead danger right to Meredith’s door. For Meredith there’s only one choice: her pack.
But Isaiah knows his mate when he sees her. And he’s not giving up without a fight.
"I love N.J. Walters’ wolves. I fell in love with them in the first book of this series, Alexandra’s Legacy, and Isaiah’s Haven gave me another marvelous reading experience...Ms. Walters brings such vitality to all of her characters, and she kept me on the edge with the fast paced action in this story...A fantastic book for shifter fans -- do yourself a favor and grab a copy of your own."
5 Books—Holly, Long and Short Reviews
"It’s another fast paced, action packed look into the world of werewolves and the hunters who seek to destroy them...The plot is smooth, the emotions passionate and intense and the integration of the secondary characters seamless."
4.5 Nymphs—Mystical Nymph, Literary Nymphs Reviews
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Excerpt from Isaiah's Haven
©2010 N.J. Walters
The city itself was vibrant and alive, filled with many different ethnic groups and economic levels. He’d seen homeless people and folks in limousines, those decked out in jeans and others in diamonds. The food and the nightlife were just as diverse. Maybe that’s what he needed. Some good food and some decent music.
He wandered past a bar and a woman’s voice drifted out on the cool October breeze. He froze, coming to a complete stop in the middle of the sidewalk. A guy bumped into him from behind and started to curse him, but one look at Isaiah’s face and he quickly moved on.
Isaiah felt his entire body clench with need as the woman’s low, sultry voice wrapped around him. Turning slowly, he stared at the outside of the small club. Haven, it was called. It was a typical older, three-story brick building with a business on the bottom and what looked to be apartments above it.
A sense of urgency filled him. An air of expectation swirled around him. Somehow he knew if he went inside this bar his life would be changed forever.
All the more reason to keep walking.
He whirled on one heel and strode in the opposite direction. About twenty feet away, he stopped.
“Fuck!”
The wolf inside him was howling, practically clawing at his skin to be free. His lungs couldn’t take in enough air even though his chest was heaving. He raked his fingers through his hair and swore again.
His instincts would not be denied. Spinning around, he stalked back to the bar. He paused on the doorstep, took a deep breath and crossed over the threshold.
The bouncer on the door nodded at him as he passed. The guy was about six-one and built, his shoulders practically filling the doorway. His blond hair was buzzed off in a crew cut and his pale blue eyes missed nothing as he watched the door and the crowd within.
The light was dim, but that was no problem for Isaiah. With his preternatural sense of sight he could see easily. The smell of liquor and warm bodies mixed with the spice of sexual arousal, creating a heady perfume. He could also smell food, and it reminded him once again that he hadn’t eaten in hours. His fast metabolism required him to eat several times more than a human male and he was running on empty.
He found an empty table for two in the far corner and sat with his back to the wall as he scoped out the place. The woman was no longer singing. No matter. He’d find her before he left here.
The place was crowded for a Thursday night. He could see only one other free table. Several couples were dancing to a bluesy number being played by a four-piece band that managed to fit on a tiny stage at the far end of the place. The bar dominated one wall with plenty of seating surrounding it. The bartender was a big guy who looked up when Isaiah’s eyes landed on him. Their gazes met and held, neither of them backing down. The guy finally looked away when a woman walked up beside him and placed her hand on his arm.
And holy shit, what a woman. Isaiah was ninety years old. Still relatively young given his five-hundred-year lifespan. But in all those years, he’d never seen a woman like this one.
Even from a distance, he could tell she was tall. Long black hair fell like silk over one of her shoulders and didn’t stop until it hit her waist. Her features were more striking than beautiful. Exotic. Strong. Her full lips were painted a deep red that all but begged a man to kiss them.
Isaiah’s cock swelled in agreement, pushing against the zipper of his jeans. He hadn’t been aroused this quickly since he’s been a young male just coming into maturity.
“What can I get you?” He resented the perky female voice that shouted near his ear. He didn’t want to stop staring at the woman standing behind the bar. It wasn’t easy, but he managed to drag his eyes to the waitress standing by his table, tray tucked under her arm as she waited for his order. She was probably in her early twenties with tousled blond curls and an open, friendly smile.
“Beer. Whatever’s on tap.” It didn’t matter to him what it was. His metabolism ensured he couldn’t get drunk on it no matter how much he drank.
“Sure. Anything else?”
He was about to say no when his stomach growled again. “Is the kitchen still open?”
“Absolutely.” She handed him a small menu even as she listed off several items. He ordered two double cheeseburgers and fries to take the edge off his hunger. She nodded and gave him another smile. “No problem. I’ll be right back with your beer.”
Isaiah reached out and snagged her wrist before she could get two steps. The waitress raised her eyebrow in question. He tugged her closer so he wouldn’t have to shout. “Who is the woman behind the bar?”
The waitress glanced over toward the bar and then back at Isaiah. “That’s Meredith. Meredith Cross. She owns the place.”
Meredith. He let her name roll over his tongue as the waitress slipped away. He liked the sound of it.
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