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Alpha Heat: Sons of Thunder, #1
Alpha Heat: Sons of Thunder, #1
Alpha Heat: Sons of Thunder, #1
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Alpha Heat: Sons of Thunder, #1

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Curvy and Kidnapped!

Grace Dawson doesn’t have it all. Hell, she doesn’t even have half of it. Her life is spiraling into decline and all there is for her is selling paddleboards on a Florida beach.

That is, until she gets a little drunk and wakes up in a cage.

Billionaire shifter Karl Norman has a problem with pirates coming to Siesta Key and kidnapping girls. Karl has other problems: his life is filled with danger, and he’s a werewolf.

So are Grace’s pirates.

After a pitched battle, Karl discovers Grace among the captives, and she steals his heart. But can Grace cope with the truth of Karl’s existence?

This is Book 1 of the Sons of Thunder Trilogy: A BBW Billionaire Shifter Werewolf Romance.

Please note this the first book of a paranormal dark and steamy romance series with hardcore evil villains. This book includes vampires, werewolves, a submissive curvy bbw heroine, an alpha male biker hero into BDSM, and pirates. 

LanguageEnglish
PublisherDeva Long
Release dateApr 29, 2015
ISBN9781507057469
Alpha Heat: Sons of Thunder, #1

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Rating: 3.6129032258064515 out of 5 stars
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  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Well it has potential but I hate it when they get you all reved up then "BAM!" read the next installment. I want a book, a story. Not a soap that keeps going a little at a time week after week!

    8 people found this helpful

Book preview

Alpha Heat - Deva Long

one

The night before Grace was taken…

You need to get out there, Grace, have some fun and maybe meet some new guys.

I don’t need to meet any new boys, Leslie. I’m doing fine.

I wasn’t. I don’t have great luck with men. First off, I’m not a model. Curvy defines my shape. Exercise, diet, herbal remedies, nothing gets me below a size fourteen. And I don’t stay near there for long. The boys who proposition me tend to be looking for their mothers.

Sweet. Nice. Boring.

Really? We moved here six months ago, and you’ve been on what, two dates? Between our paper and your cat boxes, you don’t have any social life.

I tugged on my ear and rolled my green eyes at Leslie. She alternated between thinking I was a saint for the work I do at the animal shelter and being pissed off about it because she has some critical project she needs me to pull an all-nighter on and I’ve got cat patrol. Just the other night she called me again and again while I lurked behind the 7-Eleven trying to coax a stray mama cat and her kittens out from behind the dumpster. They clamber in there and then get crushed by the garbage truck or poisoned by the store manager who hates all things furry.

That night I’d taken a boxful of purring heads to the shelter, got them cleaned and posted their pictures on the shelter’s Facebook page. We always find them homes at Sleepy Key Shelter. Then I’d answered Leslie about her emergency. She still hadn’t forgiven me for the kitten induced delay.

I’ll find a boyfriend when I’m ready. Right now I’m too busy trying to get your dream off the ground.

You’ve been great, Grace. But you need to live and enjoy yourself.

Leslie rubbed her fingers together, her teeth flashing as she smiled.

I’ve scored an interview with Caden Morning, the billionaire who parked his ginourmous yacht at Marina Sam’s.

Oh poor you.

Yes, well I already promised Pablo we’d cover his event. We can’t blow him off. Leslie winked at me. Plus, he likes you.

My lip curled.

Please. He’s past fifty.

I stroked my chin, then held my hands out to her, palms up.

Why don’t you let me go interview Morning, he’s at least young and cute.

Leslie’s brows twitched.

He’s not that much younger than Pablo.

I snorted in disgust.

Her eyebrows climbed her forehead.

So you like billionaires?

She does such a good job with her eyes. I love lipstick and eye shadow, but my thin brows have always been a challenge to get right. Thick defined the current style, and Leslie was born for the look.

I pointed a warning, making a finger gun and mouthing a silent, ka-pow.

We had a secret plan to strike it rich — starting with the tiny paper, The Key Times, her parents bought her as a graduation gift, we were going to build a web store for Sleepy Key. We planned to build an on-line marketplace to let people purchase vacation tours, rent condos, and buy goods from local shops. The unique hook was that we’d use the digital currencies that were taking off like hotcakes. But we need funding for our plans. We had tried offshoring the work to inexpensive developers, and we learned from that mistake.

We couldn’t accomplish our dream without professional help.

The Key Times had two employees, and we were both more than full time. I didn’t have time to build a web-store when I’m was also the graphics department, the photographer, the one who keeps the site and the blog and the YouTube channel updated.

I tweet for food.

Please, Grace. We need to keep Pablo happy, but we also need to get some investment lined up.

I’d known her all through college, where we’d become best friends after dorm-rooming together freshman year. Leslie had her, ‘I need you to do this for me,’ look on her face now.

It’s one of his sales events. You know how I love those.

She rolled her eyes at my attempt at sarcasm.

It’s not that I don’t like selling. Making money is a good thing. I was poor once. I still am, but back in high school and my first years of college I was ramen and fast food ketchup packets poor.

Now at least I can buy my own ketchup. Most of the time.

Leslie’s well-shaped brows drew together and her lips pressed together in a thin line.

Come on, it’s not like we’re talking retail.

Pablo’s events are worse than retail. He’ll want me to put on a suit. He’ll make me paddle around on his boards.

I hunched in my chair, He’ll make me give drinks away, I wailed.

Leslie puffed her lips like a parent making fun of a whiney child.

His skinny sales girls will be wearing bikinis and looking much better than I can.

You got serious first world problems, girl.

Ha-ha, I held my hands up, surrendering.

Leslie Styles has her way with me again!

"OK, alright, I’ll go.

I looked at her through my half-full water glass. Covering the event tomorrow would get me away from my computer, into the sunshine, and I’d have some free drinks.

Maybe even some exercise, though I didn’t plan to paddle very far.

two

Eleven hours before Grace was taken…

Grace, you have to help me get more people on the boards.

When Pablo said that the words sounded like, hafta hel’me.

I swallowed and lowered the Pepsi bottle I’d been hiding behind like I was on the verge of drying up and blowing away. I could tell Pablo wanted me to ride a board up and down the beach and pretend like I was addicted to the sport.

A long time ago, I learned that Friday was named for the Norse love goddess. On Freja’s day, the beach at Sleepy Key starts getting crowded in the afternoon. People with weekly rental houses and condos would come out for one last Florida sunset and mix with the office workers and laborers starting their weekend early. The words to It’s always five o’clock somewhere might as well be written in the sand.

While the western Florida sun burned strong and the temperature reached the high seventies, murky cloud clusters also rolled in, casting the beach into a chilly shade.

Today, the crowds were thinner than usual. Skinnier in number, not in torso.

Pablo’s three sales girls were all talking to different groups on the beach, waving their hands and bursting into laugher.

"Hey, I’m just here to take photos of you telling people how

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