A Werewolf Jock for the New Year

By Isla Chiu

The last thing I expected this New Year's Eve was to find out that my college's (sexy) linebacker is a werewolf.

 

At my first-ever college party, I make the mistake of getting way too drunk. While intoxicated, I meet Tom Zhou, our school's linebacker. The (sexy) football player is out of my league, but it seems like he's into me (though that just might be the booze talking). Just as I think he's about to kiss me, I get the sudden urge to puke. Luckily, I manage to run outside before I can vomit on his expensive sneakers. But talk about killing the mood.

 

My relief is short-lived, however, because I come across a freaking coyote.

 

Just as I think I'm about to get eaten, a wolf(!) saves me. And when I believe things can't get any more nuts, the wolf transforms into a very naked Tom Zhou…

 

Get ready for the new year with this sweet and sexy short story containing cavity-inducing instalove, a hot werewolf, and a happy ending! Part of Romance Books You Should Be Reading: The Holiday Collection, a collaboration between your favorite authors of paranormal and scifi romance!

 

Excerpt:

 

Tom grins. Christ, he's so good-looking.
After we've walked around the whole frat house, he says, "I don't see a Nickelback t-shirt anywhere. Did your friend leave the party without telling you?"
Before I can answer, my phone vibrates. I check it and see that Taylor is calling me. I answer, bracing myself for her anger. 
"WHERE THE H*LL ARE YOU?" she shouts. "Wait, I think I see you...is that hot football player carrying you?!"
I hope Tom can't hear Taylor, but judging by the smirk on his face, I think he can totally hear her. "Yes," I say, flushing.
"Do I need to save you or are you in good hands?" 
"She's in good hands," Tom answers for me.
My blush deepens. "I'm good," I tell Taylor. "Thanks for checking up on me."
"Can I go home without having to worry about seeing your dead face on the evening news tomorrow?" she asks.
"Does your friend think I'm a serial killer?" Tom asks.
My face has to be so red. "Yeah, you can go home," I say. "I'll get on a shuttle once I sober up."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. You better not haunt me if the hot football player ends up murdering you."
Tom whispers into my ear, "You're safe with me."
My dumb heart is doing somersaults in my chest.
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Isla Chiu
• Release date: Jan 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393339212

Isla Chiu

When I manage to tear myself away from taking Buzzfeed quizzes and watching unhealthy amounts of TV, I write romance and smut. My works feature alpha males, sexy times, and/or my sarcastic sense of humor. I hail from Cleveland, aka the best freaking city in the world, and believe LeBron James is the perfect human being. Despite all of my efforts, I have never truly been able to quit caffeine. My problematic favorites include Taylor Swift and Gone with the Wind. I love to hate/hate to love k-dramas. If I say I’m on a diet, I’m just lying to you and myself. One of these days, I'm going to get hypertension from an excess of salt, both literal and figurative. If I'm awkward around you, I probably don't know what to say to you and/or I think you're hot. And despite what anyone says, Forrest Gump so deserved that Oscar over Pulp Fiction. 

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Lightweight

Whoa, I am drunk. I made the mistake of gulping down my screwdriver. It tasted just like orange juice, so I thought chugging it wouldn’t do any harm. I was wrong, so wrong.

Uh, Raven, are you okay? my friend Taylor asks, concern written all over her heart-shaped face.

I’m fine, just dandy, I say before letting out an obnoxious burp. I touch her face. Oh my gosh, you’re so gorgeous. How did a swamp troll like me ever become friends with you? Seriously, she’s beautiful. Golden locks straight out of a Pantene commercial, big eyes like emeralds, red Marilyn Monroe lips, and long legs like a supermodel. In high school, I would’ve hated her because I would’ve assumed she was a mean girl. Since I’ve started college, I’ve matured a little, and learned that it is possible for people to be both good-looking and not total jerks.

She rolls her eyes. You’re wasted. And shut up, you’re not a swamp troll. How many times do I have to tell you that you’re fucking cute? She rips my cup out of my hand.

Hey! I exclaim.

You don’t need any more alcohol, she says. God, you’re a lightweight. I made your screwdriver like 95% orange juice. She curses as she watches me stumble. Luckily, she catches me before my face can hit the floor. Oh Lord, your face is red.

Do I have that Asian glow?

Oh, you have it.

I groan. Now I’m a red-faced swamp troll next to my supermodel friend.

I should take your ass home, she