Stranded With A Ravenous Shifter

  Marooned For A Night

  Olivia T. Turner

  Copyright© 2023 by Olivia T. Turner.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including emailing, photocopying, printing, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author. For permission requests, email Olivia@oliviatturner.com

  Please respect the author’s hard work and purchase a copy. Thanks!

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, businesses, companies, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  www.OliviaTTurner.com

  Edited by Karen Collins Editing

  Cover Design by Lori Jackson

  Stranded With A Ravenous Shifter

  I have to get out of this wedding asap.

  My mom arranged it, but I am so not on board.

  The groom is a total bore and there is zero attraction between us.

  Like, seriously. Zero.

  But I’m a chicken, so I wait until the last possible moment before I hike up my wedding dress and flee the scene.

  I want more than just a wedding of convenience.

  I want a passionate love affair.

  I want a man who will sweep me off my feet.

  I want to be around someone I’m so into that it’s a struggle not to rip their clothes off whenever I look at them.

  And that person is not my arranged groom, so I leave him at the altar and bolt.

  Right into a snowstorm…

  A horrible one.

  My car goes off the road.

  It gets stuck in the thick snow.

  I’m suddenly stranded in the freaking mountains with no one around as waves of snow fall down on my veiled head.

  And that’s when he comes.

  Bringing all that fire and passion with him.

  Leo says I’m his mate.

  He also says that I’m staying with him for the night.

  And possibly for the rest of his life.

  So here I am, being swept off my feet by a big burly grizzly bear shifter who is bringing me to his cabin to wait out the storm.

  I hope it never stops snowing…

  What better way to get through a snowstorm than with wine, a roaring fire, and some big muscular arms wrapped around you?

  You'll be doing a snow dance and begging for a blizzard of your own after reading about being Marooned for a Night with these hot possessive men.

  Three standalone stories by best-selling HOT romance authors, Hope Ford, Olivia T. Turner, and Michele Mills. A snowstorm has never been so steamy!

  Contents

  Copyright

  Stranded With A Ravenous Shifter

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Epilogue

  Continue

  More Shifters!

  Follow Me…

  To Steve,

  Who really knew how to spend a weekend in a cabin.

  Chapter One

  Tara

  “Oh, my god,” my sister Cynthia says as she walks into the room with her hand over her mouth and a tear in her eye. “You look stunning.”

  I yank up my wedding dress, sprint across the room, and slam the door closed.

  She jerks her head back in surprise as I grab two fistfuls of her bridesmaid dress and yank her to an inch from my face. “You have to get me out of here!” I screech. I can hear the panic in my voice. My eyes are wild and unblinking. My heart is pounding so hard it’s vibrating through my chest. I need to get the fuck out of here. Now!

  “Whoa whoa whoa,” she says softly as she puts a gentle hand on my shoulder, trying to calm me down. My grip tightens so hard my knuckles are burning. “You have to breathe, Tara. You’re just nervous.”

  She doesn’t understand. I can’t do this. I won’t do this.

  This wedding is not happening.

  “Just let me go,” she says with a hint of worry in her voice. “You’re going to tear my dress.”

  She tries to gently ease my hands off of her, but they’re clenched on tight.

  “Let go, Tara!” she says as she tries harder to pry my fingers off. “What are you doing?!”

  I let go of her and start pacing around the room like a wild tiger trapped in a small cage. My whole body is as tight as a bowstring, my adrenaline is surging, sweat is pouring down my back. I’m ready to snap.

  My sister looks at the closed door as I pace around the room, probably wondering if she can unload her maid of honor duties onto some poor unsuspecting cousin out there.

  “These are just wedding day jitters,” she says in a soothing voice. “Perfectly normal.”

  “This is not normal!” I screech as I grab a handful of hair and yank it out of my perfectly coiffed hairdo. She winces as threads of auburn hair come tumbling down.

  I’m pretty sure that normal jitters don’t make you feel like the whole world is ending. Like there’s a black hole beside you and you’re desperately trying to stop your soul from getting sucked into it.

  “You need to chill,” she says in her big-sister-get-your-head-out-of-your-ass voice. “You’re supposed to be walking down the aisle in like five minutes.”

  “I told you, I’m not doing that!”

  “You agreed to it!”

  “I don’t care!” I shout as I cover my eyes with my hands.

  “David is standing at the aisle waiting for you. You’re going to stand him up?”

  “Yes!” I shout as I throw my hands in the air. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do!”

  Cynthia takes a step back. She’s watching me like you’d watch an unhinged lunatic that you’re stuck in an elevator with.

  I can’t blame her for that. My jaw is clenched, I have crazy eyes, I’m sweating, and my hair is coming undone. She’s probably wondering why I suddenly turned feral.

  “I’m sorry that David is going to be upset,” I say. “Truly, I am. But I barely know the guy!”

  “I thought the dates with him went well.”

  “Dates?” I say with a deranged chuckle. “Those weren’t dates.”

  Cynthia doesn’t know what to do. She keeps looking at the door.

  “I better get Mom.”

  “No!” I shout as I lunge forward and grab her arm so hard she screams. “You can’t!”

  Mom is the one who set this all up. If she comes in here, I’ll never be able to escape.

  I’m twenty-four-years-old and have never even had a boyfriend. Rent and house prices are insane right now and of course, I can’t afford either of them, so I’ve been stuck living at home with my parents. My mother has been trying to marry me off for years now, and I finally cracked.

  My parents want to sell their home and downsize in Buenos Aires, Argentina for their retirement. Mom spent a year abroad there when she was young and always dreamed of moving back one day. She finally got Dad on board, so the only thing left to do was unload me onto some poor unsuspecting schmuck.

  That’s where my groom David came in. My mother talked him up for months. Every day, all I heard was David this and David that.

  ‘David has a new car, Tara. It’s blue. Isn’t your favorite color blue?’

  ‘David has the nicest eyes. Wouldn’t you like your children to have nice eyes?’

  ‘Did you know that David got promoted at work? He’s an assistant manager now. Sounds like marriage material to me.’

  She would go on and on and on and fucking on about arranged marriages too.

  While I was eating breakfast - ‘That’s how most of the world picks their spouses, Tara, did you know that?’

  While I was trying to read - ‘Divorce rates are lower for arranged marriages, Tara, did you know that?’

  While doing my laundry - ‘Couples with arranged marriages are happier, Tara, did you know that?’

  While trying to sleep - ‘You’re more likely to win the lottery if you have an arranged marriage, Tara, did you know that?’

  I must have been worn down and sleep-deprived from all of the nagging, because I finally threw my hands in the air and shouted, ‘Fine! I’ll marry David just leave me alone!’

  She wasted no time in setting it up. She wasn’t about to give me a second to regroup, recharge, and realize that this was a horrible idea. David was at my house (with his parents) for dinner three days later.

  It was strange to say the least. It felt like we were the main exhibit in a freak museum with all four of our parents watching us like hawks all night. Every time we tried to talk, they would stop their conversation and lean in to listen, so we barely said a word.

  The next week, my parents and I were at their house. We had some alone time while we set the table. We talked about five things:

  1. Pretzels (he likes them but prefers chips)

  2. The napkins on the table which belonged to his grandmother (they were painfully ugly)

  3. The weather (it was cloudy)

  4. The dinner (should be ready soon)

  5. His fantasy football team (I don’t or

won’t ever give a shit about fantasy football)

  There was zero chemistry. Zero fireworks. Zero interest.

  Looking at him made me feel as much passion as looking at a stalk of celery lying on the dirty tiled floor of the grocery store.

  But things were in motion—our mothers working quickly behind the scenes—and all of a sudden we had a wedding date and my mother came home with a dress and the invitations were sent out before I even knew they were ordered.

  And now I’m stuck in the backroom of the church with my sister, trying to fight back a panic attack.

  “I can’t marry him, Cynthia,” I say as my hands start shaking. “Mom said he had beautiful eyes. They’re not even that nice!”

  “There’s more to him than just his eyes.”

  “There was no spark,” I say, feeling the panic bubbling back up. “I need some kind of spark at least. Is that too much to ask? You know me, Cyn. I cry at love songs. I watched The Notebook at least a hundred times. I want a passionate love affair. I want a man who will sweep me off my feet! I want to be around someone I’m so into that it’s a struggle not to rip their clothes off whenever I look at them. I don’t want boring David and his stupid fantasy football team!”

  “Hate to break it to you, Tara, but every guy out there has a fantasy football team. It’s an epidemic.”

  “I can’t marry him!” I screech. “I know I said I would, but I can’t.”

  “Let’s just breathe slowly,” Cynthia says as she walks to the door and grabs the handle. “We’ll walk over to the aisle and when you see your handsome groom standing at the alter, I’m sure you’ll change your mind.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Let’s try.”

  My eyes narrow on her. “You’re my maid of honor, Cynthia. Do your job.”

  “I’m trying to,” she says, huffing out in exasperation. “I’m trying to calm you down.”

  “You shouldn’t be trying to calm me down!” I say with my voice rising. “You should be getting me car keys and distracting everyone while I climb out the window and make a run for it.”

  Her shoulders drop and she looks at me. For the first time today, she’s really looking at me.

  “You really don’t want to do this?”

  I shake my head.

  “Alright.” She bursts into action. The panic in me starts to subside now that she’s on my team.

  “Take my car,” she says as she grabs her purse and pulls out her keys. “You’ll need this too.” She gives me all the cash she has on her and I shove it into my bra. “I have clothes in my trunk that you can change into.”

  “Thank you!” I say as I grab her hand and cling to it. “I’ll never forget this!”

  “Where are you going to go?”

  “I don’t know,” I say as my mind races. I never thought past getting out of this room.

  “Go to those cabins in Montana that we used to stay at,” she says. “In Caldwell. Remember those?”

  “Yes! That’s perfect.”

  “They’re about two hours away,” she says as she hurries me over to the window. “Lay low there for a couple of days until Mom cools down.”

  “I don’t have my phone!”

  “It’s okay,” she says as she gives me her credit card. “For emergencies only! I’ll call the main desk and ask for you when everything has calmed down.”

  “You don’t mind breaking the news to everyone?” I say as she opens the stained glass window. Cold winter air hits us like a slap in the face.

  “Do I mind going into that full church and announcing to everyone that you left?” she says with a laugh. “What do you think?”

  “Thank you!” I kiss her cheek and she boosts me up. I climb through the window and stop before leaping out. “You’re the best sister ever.”

  She shakes her head, but there’s a smile on her face. “And you’re the craziest sister ever.”

  I blow her a kiss and then leap down. My beautiful satin slingback pointed-toe pumps land in cold wet slush.

  Frigid January wind slams into my bare arms as I hit the unlock button on Cynthia’s key.

  Her little mint green car lights up and I grin when I spot it.

  A few minutes later, I’m blasting the heat, blasting the radio, and singing at the top of my lungs while I barrel down the highway—the church nothing more than a speck in my rearview mirror.

  Chapter Two

  Leo

  “Get this,” my older brother Michael says as I grab my ax and bring it crashing down onto a log. It explodes apart. “Leo doesn’t think he needs a mate.”

  My younger brother Oliver bursts out laughing. He drops the tree he’s dragging through the snow and doubles over, holding his ribs.

  I roll my eyes as I pick up another log and place it on the chopping block. These two guys are so fucking frustrating.

  “Tell me why I built my cabin so close to you pricks?” I ask as I squeeze the ax and then heave it over my head. I exhale hard as I bring it down. It slams into the thick piece of oak with a thunk and slices right through it.

  “Because you love us,” Michael says with a laugh as he rips the branches off a fallen tree trunk with his bare hands.

  “And because you’re too cheap to buy your own land,” Oliver says as he picks up the tree, hoists it onto his shoulder, and comes walking over, trudging through the thick snow.

  I’m not too cheap. It’s because this land is perfect. Our parents left us sixty-eight acres of pristine mountain wilderness in Montana. I’d be crazy to turn that down. My grizzly bear loves it. He would be devastated if we moved.

  Once we inherited the land, the three Brook brothers each built a cabin tucked away in a little private section of the forest. I can’t see either of my brothers’ cabins from my porch, but I still see them constantly. This mountain is feeling smaller and smaller every day.

  “But seriously,” Oliver says as he drops the tree at Michael’s feet. Oliver is dragging the trees over, Michael is stripping the branches, and I’m chopping them up. We can feel a big snowstorm coming on and we’re stocking up on firewood in case we lose electricity for a few days. “You really don’t think you need a mate?”

  I shrug. “I think I’ll be fine without one.”

  Michael and Oliver smirk at each other.

  “It’s true,” I say. “I’m twenty-eight. I’ve been fine until now.”

  “And what does your bear have to say about it?” Oliver asks with a grin.

  I huff out a breath as I line up another log on the chopping block. My inner grizzly bear has been fine all this time, but I can tell he wants to find our mate. I do too, more than anything, but all of this waiting and worrying and wondering and constant obsessing over this fantasy girl who may not ever come is starting to get to me. I feel like my life has been on pause mode for the past few years while I wait for her to show up.

  I want to get on with it already. I want to live my life, even if she’s not in it.

  I just want more than this purgatory I’ve been living in. I want to move forward.

  My brothers don’t understand. They’re more than happy to wait one hundred lifetimes for their mates to show up.

  “My bear does what I tell it,” I say as I split another log in two. “I’m the one who makes the rules. I’m the one in charge.”

  Michael rolls his eyes as he rips off a thick branch. “Wait until your mate shows up. Then, you’ll find out you ain’t in charge of shit.”

  “Yeah,” Oliver says as he heads back to grab another fallen tree. “I’m with Mikey on this one. Giving up waiting for your mate… That’s sacrilege. Being on the lookout for our mates, waiting, saving ourselves, holding our breath—it’s all part of it, man. It’s just going to make it that much sweeter when she arrives.”

  “Yeah, well I’m done waiting,” I say as I shove the ax into the chopping block so hard half the blade disappears. “And I’m done with this.”

 

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