The Holler (The Tribe #2) by Harper L Jameson
Genres: Adult, Paranormal Romance
Cover Artist: Harper L. Jameson
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It’s been nearly 200 years since the ice storm that almost destroyed McAllen. Sheriff Jessica Attwood was born there, in a little valley in the Ohio Appalachians known as Wright’s Holler. If she isn’t careful, she’ll die there.
McAllen has a morgue full of bodies, a file of missing persons dating back decades and a sheriff that is determined to find out what is happening to her town. Her investigation leads her to the half-breed mountain man, Sig, and her reality is thrown into a chaos that only makes sense when she’s in his arms.
The Misignwa has stayed out of it. His job is to protect the forests of his ancestors, enduring the scorn of a population almost completely unchanged by progress. The problems of the white men aren’t his concern. Not until they come into his woods and duty brings him face to face with the local sheriff, a woman he’s watched from the shadows for years, drawn to in a way he can’t explain.
Jessica’s investigation pulls her deeper into Wright’s Holler, to a world of lost magic and small town legends–legends that tell of spirits roaming the woods, of lost witches and a battle between good and evil that has raged for centuries. As her fascination with Misignwa grows, something is calling her into the forest, into his arms and onto the front lines.
Wild animal, crazed woodsman… Jessica’s guesses about the killer’s identity are as thick as the trees but as the line between the worlds starts to blur, the superstitious townsfolk voice another theory from a time when magic wasn’t just for fairy tales. Something’s stalking the witches of the holler. And it wants Jessica.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Harper L. Jameson was born in South Eastern Ohio and raised on the stories of the family seat in the holler–a tiny hamlet nestled in the shadow of the Appalachians. Her imagination ran wild, fueled on tales of folklore and superstitions…of Indian burial sites and haunted woods where magic still runs free. Beginning with her debut novel “The Spirit”, she’s putting a new spin on paranormal romance by bringing the old legends back from our forgotten past. She currently lives in North Carolina with her husband and children, but she never really left the holler.
No one ever does.
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And now, what you’ve all been waiting for…
“Don’t hurt him.” A simple request, three words that her voice wavered to speak when she was caught up in the stranger’s gravity and she was being pulled closer, her feet carrying her without her permission until she was nearly pressed to his back and the heat coming off of his towering form scalded her through her uniform. He was huge. Holy shit, how’d- he- fit- through- the- doorway big and Jess was studying every part of him she could see from her vantage point. Which was damned near crushed against his spine. Tank’s sputtering at her feet broke her trance and she stepped back, the strange current ceasing when she let her arm fall away and she curled her fingers into her palm to keep from reaching for him again.
Don’t hurt him. It had been as binding as a command from the Great Spirit, all of Misignwa’s aggression channeled away from the coughing deputy at his feet and directed toward the woman who had somehow seized control of his impulses and turned them into something less lethal but no less violent. Only what he wanted to do now involved fewer spectators and a whole lot less clothes between them. Then again, maybe the spectators didn’t matter.
“I ain’t gonna hurt him, kweewa. Not if he don’t try anything else that might get him nailed to the wall again.” Misignwa actually really wanted to hurt Tank as he lumbered to his feet, rubbing the bruise on his throat and pulling his gun free as he stepped closer to the pair of them, obviously intending to put himself between Misignwa and the woman. Misignwa wasn’t going to let that happen. Not when he finally had her so close to him and his nostrils flared at something sweet rising up through her natural scent. Something like- his eyes flared wide, glowing gold as his cock thickened behind his fly, the teeth of his zipper biting into flesh grown hard and heavy with recognition. Jess smelled like a woman should.. soft and warm and welcoming. She smelled like want and he growled, his whole body gone rigid against the instinct to answer the call her desire was putting out.