Friday, 7 October 2016

#Release!!!! The Holler (A Novel Of The Tribe) By Harper L. Jameson

The Holler: Book Two of the Tribe Novels

Published: 10/12/16
Genres: Adult, Paranormal Romance
Cover Artist: Harper L. Jameson

It’s been nearly 200 years since theice 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 sheisn’t careful, she’ll die there.
McAllen has a morgue full ofbodies, a file of missing persons dating back decades and a sheriff that isdetermined to find out what is happening to her town. Her investigation leadsher to the half-breed mountain man, Sig, and her reality is thrown into a chaosthat only makes sense when she’s in his arms.
The Misignwa has stayed out of it. Hisjob is to protect the forests of his ancestors, enduring the scorn of apopulation almost completely unchanged by progress. The problems of the whitemen aren’t his concern. Not until they come into his woods and duty brings himface 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 herdeeper into Wright’s Holler, to a world of lost magic and small town legends–legendsthat tell of spirits roaming the woods, of lost witches and a battle betweengood and evil that has raged for centuries. As her fascination with Misignwagrows, something is calling her into the forest, into his arms and onto the frontlines.
Wild animal, crazed woodsman…Jessica’s guesses about the killer’s identity are as thick as the trees but asthe line between the worlds starts to blur, the superstitious townsfolk voiceanother theory from a time when magic wasn’t just for fairy tales. Something’sstalking the witches of the holler. And it wants Jessica.


"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 hisspine. 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.
"What’s your name boy?" Tank croaked out, trying to shove by the Indian to no avail and struggling to sound threatening when he couldn't draw a whole breath to command his usual booming voice. He didn't like it. Didn’t like that the man had come into town. Didn’t like that he was tearing up Sowers' store and he damned sure didn't like that he was staring Jess down like he could see right through her uniform.
Misignwa ignored him in favor of staring at the woman, his muscles drawn tight around the aching burn in his shoulder... an animal ready to spring on prey. Jess. Her name is Jess. His thoughts were a graphic tangle of images, vivid flashes of all the things he would do to her if he got her alone, all the ways he would taste those curves until shescreamed herself hoarse in her ecstasy. Ecstasy he was dying to bring her to. His eyes glinted a citrine glow and he grappled it back with a soft, throaty rumble of appreciation for the delicate female standing him off without any sign of fear.This was wrong. He didn't want any woman, their instincts toward manipulation and deceit making them too untrustworthy as anything more than a bed warmer and some ofthem not even that. A woman might let you into her body. She might spear her nails intoyour shoulders and scream your name, but Misignwa knew all too well that she'd just asquickly stick a knife in your back. Only somewhere in the primitive recesses of his brain,he was sure that bedding Jess would be completely worth it.


Harper L. Jameson was born in South EasternOhio and raised on the stories of the family seat in the holler–a tiny hamletnestled in the shadow of the Appalachians. Her imagination ran wild, fueled ontales of folklore and superstitions…of Indian burial sites and haunted woodswhere magic still runs free. Beginning with her debut novel “The Spirit”, she’sputting a new spin on paranormal romance by bringing the old legends back fromour forgotten past. She currently lives in North Carolina with her husband andchildren, but she never really left the holler. No one ever does.

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