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The Purrfect Plan

Author(s): Angela Castle

Fed up with men, but wanting a baby, Storm Wellington decides to take matters into her own hands, randomly selecting an obscure little town to find an unknowing sperm donor. Unknowingly, Storm walks into a town run and owned by big cat shifters. River Black, Alpha of Blacktown can’t believe his luck, finding his mate in his own town, even better, the lovely lush woman is more than eager. After a passionate night, Storm disappears without a trace, leaving River desperate to find her. Finally, tracking her down, River discovers the evidence of her single parenthood plans and is now pregnant with his cubs. River persuades Storm to return to Blacktown with him, but another has her eye on River and is determined to rid the town of any rival. In the sweltering heat of the Australian Summer, River must convince Storm to be his mate and protect her or risk losing her forever.

Excerpt


Storm Wellington wanted a baby more than anything. It was why she stood outside a bar in an obscure little place called Black Town.
 
Still, her desire did little to calm her apprehension, making her stomach twist almost painfully. With a firm grip on the door handle of the bar, she pushed it open, taking a few steps inside. The wafting smell of beer and cigarette smoke hit her. The low pounding beat of heavy rock music thumped in time with her frantically hammering heart. Work, damn you feet. She moved further into the dim interior, her gaze landing on the long black bar.
 
The plan was simple: to find a man, any man, willing to have no-strings-attached sex with her. She understood men well enough to know free pussy wasn't something they would easily refuse.
 
Hell, it didn't have to be a one-night stand; she would be well on her way once the deed was done. If you counted the removal of clothes into the equation, what, a whole five to ten minutes?
 
Be strong. Be confident, you can do this. She'd been chanting this same mantra since she'd left home. She chose this particular spot at random, by placing her hand over her eyes, then circling her finger before jabbing it at the map on her desk. Fate had decided to take her to Black Town after a quick internet search, finding it contained just what she needed; an out of the way bar and a motel room surrounded by native Australian Forest. It was a three hour drive, but the further away the place, the better. She plotted various seduction scenarios, along with timing her visit during the peak of her fertility cycle.
 
Storm quickly scanned the interior, noticing an empty stage at the back of the room with a small space where scattered round black tables were nicely complemented by sturdy looking silver and black metallic chairs. She spotted the cricket bat mounted on the wall behind the bar. With a boldly printed score chart: Bat- eleven: Bar patrons- zero. Did they get a lot of bar fights?
 
Her gaze roamed over the dozen or so bar patrons who stopped their low chatter to turn and stare at her. She saw why the place featured solid bar furniture. Each and every man in the bar displayed strong broad shoulders, thick firm necks, chiseled, handsome features and solid muscle. A mix of awe and wonder hit her as she realized none of them would weigh in at less than a hundred and eighty pounds. Wow! She'd struck genetic gold! As for the few women littered amongst them clothed in only simple jeans and t-shirts, they were, without exception, slim, bright eyed and cover-model gorgeous.
 
Storm drew comfort from the factthe men outnumbered the women. Panic threatened to rise. What if none of the men found her attractive enough? Not allowing herself to back pedal, she made her way to the bar.
 
Even if she was a far cry from the apparent beauties now surrounding her and clearly challenged in the height department, being only five foot three, her grandmother always taught her being neat and clean easily made up for her plain features.
 
She ran her hands down her skirt to smooth out the wrinkles. It didn't matter how she looked, because now was certainly not the time to be second-guessing herself. No doubts, just forward and onward, to do what she came here to do then get the hell out.
 
She moved away from the door. On reaching the bar, she smiled at the bartender and noticed him watching her with a curious expression.
 
"Can I have a coke, please?"
 
He arched an orange eyebrow. "Just a Coke?"
 
Alcohol was not on the cards tonight, even if she did desperately want something to calm her nerves and loosen the tension making nearly every muscle in her body ache.
 
"Yes, just a Coke."
 
The man reached under the counter, pulled out the trademark bottle and plonked it firmly on the counter before reaching for a glass and setting it next to her chosen beverage. Storm glanced down, digging around in her purse to pay for her drink.
 
"This one's on me, sugar."
 
Storm looked up, startled, not having heard the man approach. Remember what you're here for. Storm plastered on a friendly smile.
 
"Um, thank you."
 
Exotic dark chocolate eyes regarded her with interest; his rich brown hair haphazardly stuck out on his head as though he used his hand for a comb. Handsome, like every man in the bar, he would do nicely.
 
"I'll have a Coke too, Ted, just add a touch of hair in mine," he said with an impish smile. "So what's a lovely little lady like you doing in a place like this?"
 
Smooth. A touch cheesy, but sweet.
 
"Just travelling through. I've got a room at the motel for the night before heading home tomorrow. As the signs on the highway say, drowsy drivers die." Her pre-prepared lie came out easily.
 
"Well, I'm sure glad you stopped in, sugar." His grin was seductive.
 
Storm giggled and felt herself blush; maybe this wouldn't be so difficult after all.
 
"I'm Storm."
 
"Storm, I like that. Hamish Brown, at your service, little lady." He offered his hand.
 
Storm allowed her smile to widen before slipping her hand into his warm one. Yes, his services would do nicely.

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ISBN (Print): 978-1-62420-020-5
ISBN (Electronic): 978-1-62420-009-0
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Date Published: 01/31/2013
Publisher: Rogue Phoenix Press

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